#cross that one of your bingo cards!
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new-haven-psych-ward · 1 year ago
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Kamen Rider Geats episode 42 poorly summarized via memes with as little context as possible:
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jasper-pagan-witch · 10 months ago
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"I have not met a witch who does not discuss meditation as something they do frequently--whether they are good or bad at it." - Spells for Change, page 81
ME! IT'S ME! I DON'T DO ANY FUCKING MEDITATION! WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, FRANKIE, I KNOW A BUNCH OF WITCHES WHO DON'T DO MEDITATION! YOUR EXPERIENCES ARE NOT UNIVERSAL!
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mcrdvcks · 11 days ago
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I Wanna Be Yours
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Summary: You're a hacker for The Organization, a secret group that is currently working on dismantling a mutant trafficking ring. You've been working with Logan for months but neither of you have met each other in person and he doesn't even know your real name.
Word Count: 14.7k+
Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader
Notes: this is something i've wanted to do for a while- playing with the idea that logan can totally fall in love with someone just through their voice (and vice versa). i hope y'all enjoy it!
warnings/tags: reader has a code name, pet name (darling), light violence, mentions of (mutant) trafficking, some uses of y/n
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“Bet you look good in that suit.” You say, tapping on your keyboard, hacking into the security cameras of the seedy casino where the deal was taking place.
Logan huffed, covertly adjusting the small earpiece as he blended in with the crowd of the dimly lit casino. His tuxedo felt too tight, but then again, it wasn’t like he was made for fancy suits and shiny shoes.
“Don’t go gettin’ all sentimental, Phantom. This thing barely fits,” he muttered, keeping his voice low and steady. He glanced around, taking in the sight of gamblers, dealers, and a few shifty-looking men gathered near a corner. Probably the ones he was here for.
“Must be hard to hide all those muscles,” you teased through the comm, your voice a steady whisper in his ear. “But I’ll try not to distract you, just this once.”
A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips as he slipped past a group of laughing tourists. He scanned the room, zeroing in on his target: a short, balding man with an expensive suit and a smug look on his face. Logan’s senses sharpened. He could practically smell the guy’s nervous sweat. This had to be one of the trafficking ring’s major players.
“Any idea where they’re at?” he asked, his tone shifting from playful to serious in an instant.
“Second floor. Private poker room,” you said, enlarging one of the camera feeds to get a better view. “Security’s tighter up there. You’ll need a distraction if you wanna get past those guards.”
Logan glanced at the stairway leading up. Two burly men stood in front, arms crossed, eyes scanning for any sign of trouble. “Can’t just slice my way through ‘em,” he grumbled. “What’ve you got for me, Phantom?”
“Patience,” you teased. “Trust me, I’m working on it.” You typed a few more commands, initiating a loop in the security feed of the second-floor hallway. “You’ve got a 30-second window. Move now.”
Logan didn’t need to be told twice. He slipped through the casino floor, dodging between slot machines and card tables until he reached the base of the stairwell. The guards barely glanced his way as he strolled past, looking for all the world like another high-roller with a chip on his shoulder.
“Almost too easy,” he muttered under his breath, taking the steps two at a time.
“I make it look easy,” you corrected, monitoring the shifting feeds as Logan made his way to the second floor. “Just keep moving. The loop’ll hold, but not for long.”
Logan reached the hallway, his eyes narrowing at the closed door leading to the poker room. He slowed his pace, ears straining to pick up any sounds on the other side. “Tell me you’ve got eyes in there.”
“Not yet, working on it,” you said. “This system’s layered, gonna take a sec.”
Logan let out a quiet growl. “Great. No pressure or anything.”
“Hey, if you’re in such a hurry, I could always—”
“Don’t,” he cut in. “Just—stay on it.” He pressed his back to the wall, inching closer to the door, waiting for your go.
There was a pause, and then, “Got it.” Your voice softened, like you were focusing extra hard. “Four guys in there. Three playing cards, one pacing by the window.”
“Let me guess,” Logan grunted. “The bald one’s pacing.”
“Bingo.”
Logan’s fingers flexed, the subtle urge to unsheathe his claws growing. But this was a delicate operation. No bloodshed if it could be helped.
“You’ve got any ideas how to get me in without turnin’ this into a brawl?” he asked, half-expecting you to come up with something clever.
“I’ve got a couple,” you replied, a smile evident in your tone. “But you won’t like them.”
Logan sighed. “Why do I feel like you’re about to mess with me?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” you said sweetly, then paused. “Okay, maybe a little. There’s a closet down the hall to your left. Go there.”
He frowned but did as you instructed, slipping into the darkened space, filled with cleaning supplies and boxes. “Now what?”
“Well, I could trigger a fire alarm, but that’s a little loud and obvious. Or, and hear me out, I could disrupt the air conditioning. Make it so hot in there they’ll be begging for an excuse to step outside.”
Logan chuckled under his breath. “That’s your big plan? Make ‘em sweat?”
“Worked on you, didn’t it?” you teased.
“Funny.” He shook his head, glancing at the vent above him. “Think they’ll all leave?”
“Probably not all at once, but it should get the ball rolling. Just be ready. I’ll handle the rest.” Your fingers flew over the keys again, tapping into the building’s climate control system.
After a moment, you heard Logan’s quiet grunt. “Feels like it’s workin’ already.”
“Yeah, I see the temp rising in their room.” You pulled up the camera feed again, watching as one of the guys at the table tugged at his collar, then another wiped at his brow.
“Ten bucks says Mr. Baldy cracks first,” you said, amused.
Logan smirked. “You’re on.”
Not even a minute passed before the bald man swore, yanked off his suit jacket, and threw it on the back of his chair. “I’m stepping out for some air,” you heard him mutter to the others.
Logan’s eyes flicked to the door, his body tense. “Here we go.”
As the door opened, Logan moved fast. He grabbed the guy, pulling him into the closet before he could make a sound. With a quick, non-lethal chokehold, the guy slumped to the ground unconscious. Logan checked his pulse—alive. Good.
“Nice work,” you whispered in his ear. “Bet he’s not going to wake up happy.”
Logan crouched down, frisking the guy’s pockets. “Let’s hope he’s got something useful on him,” he muttered.
“He’s got a keycard,” you said, watching the screen as Logan pulled out the small plastic card. “That should get you into the back office.”
Logan glanced down at the unconscious man. “You were right. I didn’t like your plan.”
You laughed softly through the comms. “You’ll get over it. Now go, before they notice their friend’s gone.”
Logan straightened up, giving the unconscious man one last look before slipping out of the closet. “You better have a plan for what’s next, Phantom.”
“I always do,” you said, smirking as you pulled up the building’s blueprints. “Just follow my lead. Take the hall to your right. There’s an access door near the end. It’ll get you closer to the office.”
Logan moved quickly, the soft thud of his footsteps barely audible. “You sure about this? That door doesn’t look like it’s meant for guests.”
“I’m sure,” you replied confidently. “It’s an employee access. You’ve got the keycard, remember?”
He grunted in response, holding the card up to the reader. The door unlocked with a faint beep. “You really do make this look easy.”
“I try,” you said, voice laced with amusement. “Now, once you’re inside, there’s a small hallway. You’ll want to hang a left, then a quick right. The office is at the end.”
Logan opened the door, slipping into the narrow hallway. “What’s the deal with this office? Anything I should know?”
“Could be where they’re stashing data on the trafficking network. Either that or it's where they’re counting money.” You were typing again, eyes scanning multiple camera feeds. “But I’ve got a good feeling about this.”
“Good feelin’, huh?” Logan muttered, carefully making his way through the corridor. “Hope that feelin’ is worth something.”
“It always is,” you shot back playfully. “You’ve got about a minute before someone notices the guy you knocked out is missin’. So… chop, chop.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Logan growled, reaching the door to the office. “And you said I was the impatient one.”
Before you could respond, he swiped the keycard again and pushed the door open. Inside, the room was dimly lit, filled with filing cabinets, a desk cluttered with paperwork, and a few old-looking computers. Logan’s nose twitched at the faint scent of stale cigarettes and cologne.
“Jackpot,” you whispered in his ear, pulling up the feed of the room. “There should be a terminal near the desk. Get me plugged in, and I’ll handle the rest.”
Logan looked over at the outdated equipment and scowled. “This stuff’s ancient. Hope you can work with it, Phantom.”
“Please, I’ve hacked worse,” you said, brushing off the concern. “Just get me connected.”
Logan knelt down, finding a small port on the side of the computer and pulling out a cable from his gear. As soon as he plugged it in, your fingers danced across the keyboard, breaking through layers of security.
“There we go,” you murmured. “This’ll take a second. How are things on your end?”
Logan stood back up, glancing around the room. “Quiet. For now.”
“Good, because I’ve got eyes on another guy heading your way,” you warned. “He’s probably checking in on his boss. You might wanna handle him before he stumbles on Baldy.”
Logan’s fists clenched. “Great. Any more good news?”
“Depends. You want the good news or the bad news first?” you asked lightly, your tone casual despite the urgency of the situation.
“Just spit it out.”
“Good news? I’m almost done here. Bad news? You’ve got about thirty seconds before that guy reaches you.”
Logan let out a low growl. “Any suggestions?”
“Well,” you said thoughtfully, “you could go for subtle and knock him out—again. Or you could do the Logan thing and scare the crap out of him.”
Logan smirked. “And here I thought you were gonna say ‘no bloodshed.’”
“I’m flexible,” you teased. “Your call.”
Logan moved toward the door, listening carefully. The approaching footsteps were getting closer. “I’ll try subtle,” he muttered. Then, almost as an afterthought, “for you.”
“Aw, how sweet,” you quipped. “I’ll be sure to remember this moment.”
He cracked the door open just as the guy turned the corner. Logan grabbed him by the collar, yanking him into the room before he could shout. A quick punch to the gut, and the guy doubled over, gasping for air. Logan pressed him against the wall, one hand firmly over his mouth.
“Stay quiet, and I won’t hurt you,” Logan growled, his tone low and threatening.
The guy’s eyes widened, and he gave a shaky nod. Logan let him go, and he slumped to the floor, half-conscious.
“Nice work,” you praised, your voice a soft murmur in his ear. “You’ve still got it.”
“Didn’t lose it,” Logan muttered, stepping over the guy and returning to the desk. “You done yet?”
“Just about,” you said. “And… there. I’ve got everything. You’re good to go.”
Logan disconnected the cable, glancing around the room once more. “And you’re sure this’ll help us track the ring?”
“Positive,” you replied confidently. “Now, get out of there before someone else shows up.”
Logan took one last look at the unconscious man on the floor. “You got a clear path for me?”
“Always,” you said, your fingers flying over the keys again. “Head back the way you came. I’ll loop the cameras again. And don’t worry, I’ll keep them busy downstairs.”
Logan smirked as he stepped back into the hallway. “Sometimes I forget how useful you are.”
“Only sometimes?” you teased.
He chuckled softly. “Don’t push your luck, Phantom.”
You smiled to yourself, watching the feeds as Logan made his way through the building. “Whatever you say, Logan. You owe me one.”
“Add it to the list,” he said, his voice gruff but laced with a hint of amusement.
“Believe me, I am.” You took a bite of your cake, an orange cardamom one you made the other day.
“The hell are you doin’?” Logan asked.
You shrugged, “I’m eatin’. Thought now was a better time than ever. Let’s my fingers have a break. Got a problem, Wolf?” you ask, taking another bite of your cake, your tone teasing through the comm.
Logan’s voice grumbled in your ear, low and irritated. "We're in the middle of a mission, and you’re havin’ dessert?"
"Hey, a girl’s gotta eat," you reply casually, wiping a few crumbs off your keyboard. "I’ve earned it. You’re lucky I’m not eating popcorn with the way this operation’s going. Besides, I’m the one doing the hard work behind the scenes, remember?"
"You’re sittin’ in front of a computer, Phantom," Logan shot back, though you could hear the faintest trace of a smirk in his voice. "Not exactly the front lines."
"Exactly. Where would you be without me?" you retort, savoring another bite of cake. "I’m the reason you’re not punching your way through the entire casino right now."
Logan stayed quiet for a beat. You could imagine him clenching his jaw, trying to decide whether to argue or just let you have your moment. "You done?"
You chuckle softly, leaning back in your chair. "For now. You make it out of there yet?"
"Almost," Logan muttered, his voice low as he moved through the hall. "Place is still crawling with these scumbags. Any chance you can keep ‘em distracted?"
"Already ahead of you," you said, your fingers flying over the keyboard again. "Looping the feeds, and I’ve got a little surprise coming for the main floor. Keep your eyes open."
Logan grunted in response, his boots making soft thuds as he crept through the back corridors. "Surprise, huh? What kind of surprise?"
"You’ll see," you said cryptically, unable to hide the amusement in your tone.
There was a pause before Logan spoke again, quieter this time. "You always this chatty during missions?"
You tilted your head, curious. "Depends on who I’m working with. Some people are all business, no fun. Others… well, they don’t mind a little conversation. Keeps things from getting too tense."
"Huh," Logan responded, noncommittal. But then, after another beat, he added, "Guess it ain’t so bad."
Your eyebrows shot up. "Was that a compliment? Did Wolverine just say something nice?"
"Don’t push it, Phantom," Logan growled, but there was a hint of a smile in his voice.
You grinned to yourself, pleased that you’d gotten under his skin a little. "Alright, alright. I’ll stop before you start getting sentimental on me."
Logan was quiet for a moment, then muttered, "Not much chance of that."
Before you could reply, you heard footsteps in the feed, heading in Logan’s direction. Your tone shifted, all business now. "Logan, hold up. Someone’s coming your way, about twenty feet ahead."
"Great," he grumbled, already moving to the side, pressing himself into the shadows.
You watched the camera feed, tracking the figure’s movement. "Wait… looks like it’s just one guy. Should be easy to handle."
Logan’s low growl rumbled through the comm. "Easy for you to say."
You rolled your eyes, but your focus stayed on the screen. "You’re Wolverine. You’ll be fine. Just make sure he doesn’t see you."
A few seconds passed, and then you heard a soft thud. Logan’s voice came back through the comm, sounding slightly breathless. "Handled."
"See? Told you. Easy," you said smugly.
Logan didn’t respond right away, probably too busy moving again. You kept your eyes on the security feeds, tracking his progress. Finally, you heard his voice, a little softer this time. "Thanks."
Your fingers paused over the keys. "For what?"
"For not gettin’ in the way," he said, almost gruffly, but you could tell he meant it.
You smiled, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. "Anytime, Wolf."
There was a brief silence, and then Logan cleared his throat. "So, you gonna tell me what this surprise is, or you just keepin’ me in the dark?"
You leaned forward, grinning. "Oh, right. Almost forgot. Check the main floor in about… five seconds."
Logan didn’t say anything, but you imagined him looking around suspiciously. Then, just as you’d planned, the lights in the main casino flickered before the fire alarms started blaring. You heard Logan’s quiet chuckle through the comm.
"That your idea of subtle?"
"I prefer ‘effective,’" you said, watching as the casino patrons started panicking, scrambling for the exits. "Should give you the distraction you need to get out clean."
Logan let out a low laugh. "I’ll give you that, Phantom. You make one hell of a distraction."
"Flattery will get you nowhere," you teased, though you couldn’t help the slight flush creeping up your neck. "Now hurry up and get out of there before someone starts putting two and two together."
"On it," Logan muttered, the sound of the alarm still faint in the background as he made his way out. "I’m guessin’ you already got us an exit plan?"
You leaned back in your chair, tapping your fingers against the desk. "I wouldn’t leave you hanging like that. Side door, west end of the building. You’ve got about three minutes before the cops show up."
Logan moved swiftly, his footsteps barely audible now. "You really are somethin’ else, y’know that?"
You smirked. "I’ve heard that once or twice."
As Logan slipped through the side door, you watched him disappear from the building’s cameras, your job mostly done. “You’re clear. Ricky wants you to meet him tomorrow morning, 8 sharp for a debrief.”
Logan let out a short grunt. “Ricky, huh? Great. I’ll bring donuts.”
You smiled, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “You could at least try to pretend you’re not completely over these meetings.”
Logan’s voice crackled through the comm, rough but with a hint of humor. “I’m over a lotta things, Phantom. Meetin’s just one of ‘em.”
You leaned back in your chair, stretching out your arms. “Well, don’t be late. You know how Ricky gets when he’s kept waitin’.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Logan muttered. There was a pause, and then, “What about you? You gonna be there?”
You raised an eyebrow, surprised at the question. “You think I just show up to these things? I’m the behind-the-scenes tech genius, remember? My job’s done.”
Logan huffed. “Yeah, well… guess I figured after all this time, I’d finally meet the mystery hacker.”
There was something in his voice—something almost like curiosity—but you brushed it off with a light laugh. “Aw, are you saying you miss me already, Wolf?”
“Don’t push it,” Logan shot back, though there was a playful edge to his words. “Just seems weird, is all. Workin’ together this long and never even met you face-to-face.”
You paused for a moment, considering his words. It was weird. You’d been guiding Logan through missions for months now, your voices constantly in each other’s ears, but you had never been in the same room. A part of you liked it that way—it kept things professional, detached. Safer. But another part of you… well, maybe you were curious too.
“Maybe one day,” you said lightly, dodging the subject. “But for now, I think it’s better this way. Keeps the mystery alive, right?”
Logan snorted. “Yeah, real mysterious. You sittin’ there eatin’ cake while I’m out here doin’ the heavy liftin’.”
You smirked. “It’s called multitasking, Logan. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”
Before he could respond, a soft beep on your computer alerted you that the building’s security systems were coming back online. The loop you’d created was about to end.
“Looks like my window’s closing,” you said, typing a few last commands. “Everything’s going back to normal on their end. You’re officially off the radar.”
“Good. Was gettin’ sick of the place anyway,” Logan muttered. You could hear the sound of traffic now, indicating he was out on the street. “You sure you don’t wanna show up tomorrow?”
“Why?” you asked, amused. “So you can finally see if I really do eat cake during all your missions?”
Logan grumbled something under his breath. “Yeah, somethin’ like that.”
You hesitated, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Meeting him in person… it’d be a big step. The dynamics between you two would change. And honestly, you weren’t sure if that was a good idea. But at the same time, a part of you was curious about the man behind the gruff voice and dry humor.
“We’ll see,” you said, keeping your tone light. “But don’t hold your breath, Wolf.”
Logan was quiet for a second before he let out a low chuckle. “Wasn’t plannin’ on it. See you around, Phantom.”
With that, the line went dead, and you leaned back in your chair, staring at the screen. You could still hear Logan’s voice in your head, and for a moment, you wondered what it’d be like to finally meet him. But then you shook the thought away, focusing back on your monitors.
It was safer this way. Easier. Less complicated.
But as you closed down your systems for the night, a small, nagging part of you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever get the chance to see the man behind the voice.
---
The next morning, you found yourself up earlier than usual, sipping coffee and thinking about Logan’s mission. You knew he was already at the debrief with Ricky, probably sitting there with that irritated look on his face. The thought made you smile.
You were in the middle of pulling up some new data on the trafficking ring when your phone buzzed with a message.
Logan: Missin’ you at this meeting. Ricky’s talkin’ my ear off.
You blinked at the screen, surprised. You weren’t expecting a text from Logan, let alone one like that. He wasn’t usually the type to check in.
You: I’m sure you’re handling it like a pro. Should I send donuts as a peace offering?
His reply came almost immediately.
Logan: Yeah, make it two dozen.
You snorted into your coffee, shaking your head.
You: I’ll see what I can do. How’d the debrief go?
There was a pause before Logan replied.
Logan: Fine. Got another mission lined up. They want you back on comms. Same setup.
Your fingers hesitated over the keys before you typed back.
You: Guess that means you’re stuck with me a little longer, huh?
Logan: Could be worse.
You smiled to yourself, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. It was a small thing, but the fact that Logan had reached out to you, even if it was just to complain about a meeting, felt like progress.
You: Just let me know when you’re ready for another round, Wolf. I’ll be there.
Logan: Yeah, I know you will.
You stared at the screen for a second longer, feeling something stir in the pit of your stomach. You shook it off, downed the rest of your coffee, and started pulling up the files for the next mission.
There was no time for distractions—not when the stakes were this high.
But still, a small part of you couldn’t help but look forward to hearing Logan’s voice in your ear again.
---
“Why don’t you tell me something ‘bout you?”
You raised an eyebrow at Logan’s question, momentarily pausing your typing before resuming. “I don’t know… don’t want a strange man knowin’ about me, do I?”
There was a low chuckle on the other end of the line. "Strange man, huh? Thought we were past that by now."
You smirked, leaning back in your chair. “Well, I guess you’re not that strange, Wolf. But still. Not sure I’m ready to spill all my secrets.”
“I’m not askin’ for all your secrets. Just one.” His voice was rough, but there was a hint of curiosity behind it, like he was genuinely interested in getting to know you. Which was… unexpected.
You tapped your fingers against the keyboard, considering. “Alright. Something about me, huh? Let’s see… I used to hate coffee. Couldn’t stand the taste.”
Logan snorted. “That’s it? C’mon, Phantom, give me somethin’ better than that.”
“Hey, you didn’t specify what kind of fact,” you shot back, a grin creeping onto your face. “But fine, if you want something more interesting… I got kicked out of my computer science class once.”
There was a beat of silence. “You? Miss hacker extraordinaire? What the hell did you do?”
You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see you. “Maybe I hacked into the school’s system to change a grade or two. Not mine, though. A friend’s. The professor wasn’t too thrilled about it.”
Logan’s laugh came through the line, deeper this time. “Should’ve known you’d be trouble.”
You smiled, leaning forward again. “Well, you’re stuck with me now.”
“Seems like it,” he muttered, a hint of something in his voice that made your stomach flip.
You cleared your throat, steering the conversation back on track. “Alright, your turn. Tell me something about you.”
“Not much to tell.” Logan’s voice was gruff, almost dismissive, but you could hear the hesitation.
“Come on, fair’s fair,” you pressed. “You can’t ask me for something and not return the favor.”
He was silent for a moment, and you could almost picture him sitting there, deciding how much he wanted to give away. Logan was driving, he had finished another mission with you on the line like always. Except this time, it ended with a man tied up and unconscious in the trunk for Ricky.
Finally, he sighed. “Alright. You want something about me? I used to be a lumberjack.”
You blinked, thrown off by the admission. “A lumberjack? Like, chopping down trees and all that?”
“Yeah. Chopping down trees, clearing land. It was… quiet. Simple.”
You let that sink in, the image of Logan swinging an axe somehow fitting. “Sounds nice. Bet you looked right at home doing it.”
He huffed a short laugh. “Not sure anyone’s ever ‘at home’ doing that, but yeah, it wasn’t bad. Kept me grounded, I guess.”
There was something unspoken in his voice, something heavy. You knew enough by now to not push too hard, so instead, you kept it light. “So, from chopping trees to chasing bad guys and mutants. Quite the career change.”
“Yeah, you could say that.” Logan’s tone shifted, and you could tell he was ready to move on. “Enough ‘bout me. What’s the status on those files? You find anything new?”
You glanced at your screen, where the data on the trafficking ring was slowly coming together. “A few new leads. Cross-referenced some names from the last mission, and there’s definitely a connection between the ring and a shipping company based in Miami. Could be our way in.”
“Good.” Logan’s voice was steady, all business again. “Send me the details when you’re done. Ricky’s gonna want to know.”
You nodded to yourself, already pulling up the files to forward to him. “You got it. And Logan?”
“Yeah?”
“Try not to let Ricky drive you too crazy. I’m not sending donuts again.”
Logan snorted. “No promises.”
---
Two days later, you were back at your desk, knee-deep in code, when the comms crackled to life.
“You ready, Phantom?”
You smiled to yourself, hearing Logan’s voice in your ear again. “Always. You good to go?”
“Locked and loaded,” he replied, the sound of a car door shutting in the background. “What’s the target this time?”
You tapped a few keys, bringing up the map. “Warehouse in Miami. Based on the intel we pulled, this is one of their main distribution points. High traffic, lots of movement at night.”
“Security?”
“Pretty tight, but nothing we can’t handle. I’ll be your eyes and ears. You just focus on getting in and out.”
“Like always.” There was a pause, then, “You ever been to Miami?”
You raised an eyebrow at the question. “Once or twice. Why?”
“Just curious. Thought maybe you’d have some recommendations on where to go after all this is over.”
You couldn’t help but grin. “What, planning a vacation already?”
“Maybe. Depends how fast we wrap this up.”
Shaking your head, you brought the focus back to the mission. “Alright, Wolf. Let’s get through this first, then we can talk about your beach plans.”
Logan chuckled, low and rough. “Deal.”
As you guided him through the back streets of Miami, tracking his every move on the security cameras, you couldn’t help but feel that familiar sense of anticipation. Working with Logan had become second nature by now, and yet there was always this underlying tension, this unspoken connection between you two that made every mission just a little more intense.
“Left at the next alley,” you instructed, your eyes flicking between the camera feeds. “You’ll see a door around the corner. Should be unlocked.”
“Got it,” Logan replied, his voice steady. You could hear his footsteps echoing off the alley walls as he approached the warehouse.
“Any movement inside?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
You scanned the interior feeds. “Three guards on the ground floor, two patrolling the upper levels. They’re not on high alert, though. You should be able to slip past them.”
“Easy enough.”
You listened to the sound of him moving, the slight creak of a door opening, then the soft thud of his boots on concrete. You kept your focus on the screens, heart rate picking up as Logan made his way deeper into the building.
“There’s a stairwell to your left,” you whispered, though no one but Logan could hear you. “Take it up. The control room’s on the second floor.”
“On it.”
Everything was going smoothly—until it wasn’t.
“Shit,” Logan muttered, his voice tense. “Got company.”
Your eyes flew to the nearest camera, catching sight of two guards rounding the corner, guns drawn.
“Hang on,” you said quickly, fingers flying across the keyboard. “I’m looping the camera feed—there, they shouldn’t be able to see you now.”
Logan didn’t respond right away, but you heard the scuffle over the line, the sound of fists meeting flesh, followed by a grunt of pain. You held your breath, watching the screens intently.
“Logan? You good?”
There was a beat of silence before his voice came through, breathless but unbothered. “Yeah. Just had to put a couple guys to sleep.”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “Jesus, give me a heart attack, why don’t you?”
“Don’t worry, Phantom. I’ve got it under control.”
You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, and despite the tension, you couldn’t help but smile. “Well, next time, maybe give me a little warning before you go all Rambo on me.”
“No promises,” Logan’s voice crackled through the comms, and you could practically hear the grin in his tone. There was a brief pause before he added, “You still with me, Phantom?”
You shook your head, trying to suppress a smile. “Barely. I swear, you’ll be the death of me one of these days.”
His laugh came low and rough, and for a moment, you let yourself relax a little, the tension from earlier easing. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard that.”
“Yeah, well, I mean it,” you shot back, eyes scanning the multiple screens in front of you. The warehouse was sprawling, but you had a pretty good read on the layout by now. “You’re clear to move. No one else on this floor.”
“Got it.” You heard the soft thud of his boots again as he moved forward.
“So, what’s the next step?” Logan asked, keeping his voice low. “You got me runnin’ around this place, but you haven’t told me what I’m lookin’ for.”
“Patience, Wolf,” you teased, tapping a few more keys to bring up the rest of the building’s security system. “I’m working on it. There’s a secure server room on the north side of the building. That’s where they’re storing the data we need. You’re gonna have to bypass their security to get in.”
“Piece of cake.”
“Funny you mention cake,” you said, grinning to yourself as you tapped into the server’s firewall. “Because after this, I’m thinking you owe me some. Maybe even pie. You’re racking up quite the tab.”
Logan chuckled. “Yeah? We’ll see. First, let’s get through this alive.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
As you worked, your mind drifted for a second, the familiar rhythm of the job taking over. It was almost unsettling how natural it had become to guide Logan through these kinds of missions. You weren’t sure when you’d started looking forward to them—maybe it was the banter, maybe it was the trust you’d built. But either way, it had become a part of your routine.
“Server room’s on the right,” you said after a beat, focusing back on the task at hand. “Two guards outside, but they don’t seem too alert. Shouldn’t be a problem for you.”
Logan’s voice was smooth as he replied, “Already ahead of you. On my way.”
You kept your eyes on the screen, watching as he moved through the shadows, blending in with the dark corners of the warehouse. It was impressive, really. The way he worked was so fluid, like he’d done this a thousand times before. And, well, he probably had.
“There’s an override switch on the wall next to the door,” you instructed. “Flip it, and you’ll have access.”
Logan grunted in response, and a moment later, you heard the soft click of the door unlocking.
“Inside,” he muttered. “Now what?”
You were about to respond when a sudden blip on your screen caught your attention. “Wait, hold up,” you said quickly, fingers flying across the keyboard. “We’ve got movement. Someone’s heading toward your location. Two guards, second floor.”
Logan’s voice was calm, even as he moved into action. “How long do I have?”
“Not long. They’re coming fast.” Your heart pounded as you watched the dots on the map converge on his location. “You need to get out of there, now.”
“Too late for that,” Logan muttered, the sounds of heavy footsteps echoing through the comms.
“Logan—”
“Don’t worry, Phantom,” he cut you off, and you could hear the smirk in his voice again. “I’ve got this.”
The next thing you heard was the unmistakable sound of fists hitting flesh, followed by a low grunt of pain. You winced, even though you couldn’t see what was happening.
“Logan? Talk to me.”
More sounds of a struggle came through, and then finally, Logan’s voice, slightly breathless but unbothered. “Two down. Told ya, no problem.”
You let out a shaky breath, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah, well, maybe next time don’t wait until the last second to handle it.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, even though your nerves were still on edge. “You’re impossible.”
“That’s what they tell me,” he replied, and you could hear the faint rustle of him moving again. “Alright, I’m at the server. How much time do we need?”
“Give me five minutes,” you said, fingers flying across the keyboard as you initiated the download remotely. “I’m pulling the data now. Just stay put until I finish.”
“Five minutes? Thought you were faster than that, Phantom.”
“Don’t push it, Logan,” you shot back, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “I’d like to see you hack into a secured server faster.”
“Maybe I’ll give it a shot one of these days,” he muttered, the humor still in his voice. “Bet I’d be a natural.”
“Please. You’d probably smash the computer before you even logged in.”
“Only if it pissed me off.”
You shook your head, focusing back on the task at hand. “Alright, I’m almost done. Just a few more seconds.”
There was silence on the line for a moment, and you could hear Logan shifting in place, his breaths slow and steady.
“You ever think about doin’ this full time?” he asked suddenly, his voice lower now, more serious.
“Hacking?” you replied, thrown off by the question. “I mean, I’m not exactly doing this for the money. Why?”
“Just curious,” Logan said, and you could tell by his tone that he wasn’t pressing the issue. “Seems like you’re good at it. You could make a real difference.”
You hesitated, fingers hovering over the keys. “I’m already making a difference,” you said softly, your voice quieter than usual. “I don’t need to do it full time to feel like it matters.”
There was a pause, and for a moment, you thought maybe the line had cut out. But then Logan spoke again, his voice low and almost… thoughtful.
“Yeah. Guess you’re right.”
You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you didn’t. Instead, you focused on finishing the download, the soft hum of the servers filling the silence between you.
“Got it,” you said finally, leaning back in your chair with a sigh of relief. “Download’s complete. You’re good to go.”
Logan didn’t reply right away, but you could hear the soft sound of him moving, his footsteps heavy against the concrete floor.
“Logan?” you prompted after a moment, the silence starting to make you uneasy.
“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice a little distant. “I’m on my way out.”
You nodded to yourself, watching his dot move across the map on your screen. “Good. Let’s get you out of there.”
As you guided him back through the warehouse, you couldn’t help but wonder what had changed in his voice during those last few minutes. Something about the way he’d asked that question—about doing this full time—had caught you off guard.
But now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. You had a job to finish, and Logan needed to get out of there safely.
“Alright, you’re clear,” you said once he reached the exit. “No one’s around. Just make sure you don’t—”
“Yeah, I know,” Logan interrupted, and you could hear the smirk in his voice again. “Don’t get shot. You’ve told me a thousand times, Phantom.”
“Then maybe this time you’ll listen,” you shot back, grinning despite yourself.
Logan chuckled, the sound low and rough. “No promises.”
And with that, the line went quiet, leaving you alone in the soft glow of your computer screen.
---
"Alright, your change is $2.87. Have a good one.” You handed the change and a paper bag to the customer, smiling politely. After brushing your hands on your pastel blue apron, you turned to the next person in line. "How can I help—”
You paused mid-sentence as you looked up, surprised to see Ricky standing in front of you with a smirk on his face. You let out an exaggerated sigh. “The regular?”
“Always.” Ricky leaned against the counter, watching you with that usual casual attitude. “You know me too well, Phantom.”
You scoffed lightly at the use of your codename in the middle of your bakery. "Could you not call me that here?" You motioned to the line behind him. “I’d prefer not to blow my cover in front of customers.”
Ricky grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Relax, I’m just messin’ with you. Your secret’s safe with me.”
You shook your head and started prepping his order, grabbing a coffee and a chocolate croissant, which he always got whenever he visited your bakery. “What are you doing here anyway? Don’t you have something better to do than bother me at work?”
“Maybe I just missed my favorite hacker-slash-baker,” Ricky teased, crossing his arms as he watched you work. “Figured I’d stop by and see how you’re holding up.”
You raised an eyebrow, handing him the coffee. “I’m holding up fine. Business as usual.”
“Yeah. This place looks better than before. New paint job?”
“Actually, no. New tables and chairs.” You replied. Computer programming had always been something you enjoyed and loved, but when you started working for a big tech company, you couldn’t help but feel like your talents were going to waste.
You found Ricky, or rather, Ricky found you, and you were recruited into ‘The Organization’ to take down mutant trafficking rings. You still needed money, so you decided to put to use your other skill, baking. You opened a small bakery in New York City and have been running it for close to 2 years now.
Ricky leaned against the counter, eyeing the new setup. “So this is what you do when you’re not saving the world? Whip up some cupcakes?”
You rolled your eyes as you placed the croissant in a bag. “Something like that. Gotta pay the bills, right?”
Ricky took the bag from you, giving you a knowing smirk. “You know, it’s still hard to picture you as a baker. I keep waiting for the day I come in here, and all the pastries are bugged with tiny microphones.”
You snorted. “Please. Like I’d waste good croissants on something like that.”
He laughed, then took a sip of his coffee. “You heard from Logan?”
Your fingers froze for a split second, but you quickly masked it by busying yourself with wiping down the counter. “Why? Did something happen?”
Ricky raised an eyebrow. “No, not that I know of. Just thought he might’ve reached out, is all.”
You shrugged, trying to keep your tone casual. “He’s probably busy. You know how it is.”
“Mhm.” Ricky gave you a look that suggested he wasn’t buying it. “Right. Busy.”
You shot him a glance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He grinned, shaking his head. “Nothing, Phantom. Just… you two seem to get along pretty well. That’s all.”
You felt a warmth creeping up the back of your neck and quickly turned away, focusing on the pastries again. “We work well together, if that’s what you mean.”
“Sure, sure,” Ricky said, clearly amused. “Just don’t let ol’ Wolf get too attached. He’s not exactly the sentimental type.”
You scoffed. “Yeah, I’m not worried about that.”
But even as you said it, you couldn’t help but think back to the last mission. The banter, the small moments where Logan seemed to let his guard down—just a little. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make you wonder.
Ricky stood up straight, crumpling the paper bag in his hand. “Alright, Phantom. I’ll leave you to your cupcakes and secret side missions. Just don’t go getting yourself into trouble.”
“Me? Trouble?” you grinned. “Never.”
He chuckled, heading for the door. “Catch you later.”
As soon as he was gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Ricky had a way of pushing your buttons just enough to make you think. And now you couldn’t stop replaying your recent conversations with Logan in your head. It was strange—this… thing between you two. He wasn’t like anyone you’d worked with before. And yet, it felt natural, like you’d known each other much longer than a few months.
Your phone buzzed in your apron pocket, snapping you out of your thoughts. You pulled it out and glanced at the screen.
Logan: Got some info for you. When’s your next shift with me?
You bit your lip, your fingers hovering over the keys for a second before you replied.
You: Whenever you need me. What’s the mission?
Logan: I’ll fill you in later. Just be ready.
You: Always am, Wolf.
A short pause, then Logan’s reply came through.
Logan: I know.
You stared at the screen for a moment longer, feeling that familiar flutter in your chest. Shaking your head, you shoved the phone back into your pocket. You had a business to run, after all. There was no time to dwell on this… whatever it was between you and Logan.
But as you served the next customer with a practiced smile, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that your next mission with him was going to be different. Maybe it already was.
---
“You ever been to New York City?” Logan asked.
You briefly stopped your typing on the keyboard, “maybe. Maybe not. Why?”
Logan’s voice crackled through the earpiece, low and rough as always. “Just curious. Figured you might’ve wandered through at some point, considering how close we’ve been workin’ together.”
You raised an eyebrow, glancing at the surveillance feed on your screen. “Is this your version of small talk, Wolf? Because I gotta say, you’re not exactly known for that.”
He chuckled. “Nah, just figured it was worth askin’. You ever get outta that basement of yours?”
You leaned back in your chair, smirking to yourself. “I’m not always in a basement, you know. I have other things going on. Like you, sweetie. You focusing on those wires?”
“Sweetie?” Logan’s voice came back with a low growl, amusement lacing his tone. “You know I don’t get distracted easy, darlin’.”
You smirked at the monitor in front of you, watching as he carefully maneuvered through the narrow corridor of the warehouse. “Just making sure. Wouldn’t want to have to bail you out if you trip a wire.”
“Funny,” he muttered. “You’re soundin’ real confident for someone sittin’ comfy at a keyboard.”
“Hey, I’m not comfy,” you shot back, leaning closer to the screen. “I’m on the edge of my seat watching your back.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Logan said, the sound of a door creaking open in the background. “What do you see up ahead?”
You focused on the different camera feeds, your fingers flying over the keys to switch between views. “Two guards in the hallway to your left. Armed. They’re just patrolling, so if you wait about ten seconds, you should be able to slip by.”
“Copy that.” His breathing slowed, the sound of footsteps faint as he pressed himself against the wall. “Tell me somethin’, Phantom. What do you do when you’re not playin’ babysitter for me?”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Logan grunted softly, the sound of his claws extending briefly as he took a peek around the corner. “Yeah, kinda. All I get’s that voice of yours—still gotta figure out the face that goes with it.”
You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. “You’re obsessed, Wolf.”
“Never said I wasn’t.” There was a beat of silence as Logan moved silently down the hallway, bypassing the guards with ease. “But you still didn’t answer me.”
You sighed dramatically, switching to another camera feed that showed a large storage room filled with crates. “What do you think I do? Sit in a dark room, hacking into firewalls all day?”
Logan snorted. “Ain’t that what you’re doin’ now?”
“Touché.” You shifted slightly, watching him take down a lone guard with a quick, precise movement. “But no. I do have a life outside of this, you know.”
“Like what?” He sounded genuinely curious now, and you could almost picture the way his brows would be furrowed in concentration. “You got a family? Friends?”
You paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Family? Not really. Friends? Also a stretch. But you didn’t feel like sharing that right now. “I’ve got… a business to run.”
Logan was quiet for a moment. “A business, huh? Didn’t think you’d be the type to deal with customers.”
“Why not?” you shot back. “I’m very good with people, I’ll have you know.”
“Yeah, like the time you almost tore that guy a new one when he questioned your coding?” He chuckled, the sound low and deep in your ear. “Real people person, darlin’.”
“Okay, that was one time.” You rolled your eyes. “And he deserved it. But yeah, I’m pretty good with people—when I want to be.”
“Uh-huh.” There was a rustling noise, like he was checking through one of the crates. “What kinda business?”
You hesitated again. Part of you wanted to keep that piece of your life separate from Logan. But he’d been honest with you about a lot of things—his past, his work, even some of his regrets. It seemed only fair to give a little in return.
“...A bakery,” you finally admitted, almost cringing at how mundane it sounded compared to the world you two operated in.
There was a long pause on the other end. Then—
“A bakery?” Logan repeated, his voice thick with disbelief. “Like… cupcakes and cookies bakery?”
“Yeah, Wolf,” you said dryly, feeling heat creep up your neck. “I bake things. It’s called having a hobby.”
He made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “Just tryin’ to picture it, that’s all. Our resident hacker pullin’ cookies out of the oven.”
“Is that so hard to imagine?” You switched to another feed, tracking his progress through the facility. “I bet you’d like my cookies.”
“Yeah?” There was a hint of teasing in his voice now. “You gonna make some for me sometime?”
You bit your lip, surprised at the sudden flutter in your chest at the thought. “Maybe. If you’re good.”
“Darlin’, I’m always good.”
“Debatable,” you shot back quickly, but your smile softened at the edges. “But I’ll keep that in mind.”
There was another pause, and you could hear Logan’s soft exhale through the comms. “You really own a bakery?”
“Yes, really,” you said, feeling oddly defensive now. “I’m not making it up just to sound cute.”
He chuckled again. “I didn’t think that. Just… didn’t see it comin’, is all. Got any specialties?”
You blinked at the sudden change in tone, a mix of genuine curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Well, I make a mean chocolate croissant.”
“Chocolate croissant, huh?” He sounded like he was mulling it over. “Could go for one right now.”
“Focus, Wolf,” you teased, but there was a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the coffee beside you. “Get through this mission, and maybe I’ll let you try one.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” His voice was low, a promise wrapped in that simple statement.
For a moment, the two of you fell into a comfortable silence. It was strange how easy it felt, talking like this. Like you weren’t two people who only knew each other through voices and screens. Like there was something more.
“Alright, I’m in position,” Logan murmured, breaking the silence. “What’s next?”
You glanced at the feed, spotting the final target. “There’s a control panel just ahead. Shut it down, and we’ll have full access to the data we need.”
“On it.” There was a soft thud as he moved forward, the sound of his claws retracting. “Phantom?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks… for keepin’ me company. Makes this kinda work a little less shit.”
Your heart skipped a beat, and you struggled to find your voice for a second. “...Anytime, Wolf.”
And you meant it.
---
After 5 months of The Organization searching, the base of the mutant trafficking ring was finally found. It wasn’t just you and Logan, but other’s out on the field searching, and now things were coming to a head.
Ricky had briefed everyone—the field agents and those, like you, behind the computers. Everyone was in position, and tonight, after months of planning, the mutant trafficking ring was finally going to be shut down.
You took a steadying breath, fingers hovering over your keyboard. The screens in front of you were filled with various feeds: security cameras, schematics of the building, comms channels. It was go-time, and as much as you liked to pretend you were calm, there was a knot of tension in your stomach. You knew what was riding on this mission—innocent lives, and for some reason, your thoughts kept circling back to one person in particular.
“Phantom, you there?” Logan’s voice came through your earpiece, low and steady.
“Yeah, Wolf. Right here.” You sat up a little straighter, adjusting the headset. “You good?”
“Never better.” He sounded almost amused. “How ‘bout you? Keepin’ those fingers of yours nimble?”
You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “I’m ready to go. All feeds are online, and I’ve got eyes on every entrance. You’re at the west side of the building, right?”
“Yep.” He paused, and you heard the faint shuffle of boots against gravel. “What’s your status?”
“Locked and loaded,” you replied, scanning the feeds. “Looks like we’ve got a dozen guards outside, plus more scattered throughout the building. The main target’s in the central office on the second floor. You’ll need to cut through the lower levels to get there.”
“Got it. You got eyes on the others?”
You quickly toggled between the different comms channels, listening in on reports from the other teams. “Everyone’s in position. Team Alpha is covering the south, Bravo’s moving to secure the exit routes. You’re clear to start your approach.”
Logan grunted in acknowledgment, and you watched on one of the monitors as he started moving through the shadows, staying low and out of sight.
“Be careful, Wolf,” you murmured, your voice softer than you intended.
“Careful’s my middle name,” he drawled back, a hint of that signature cockiness coming through. “You just keep those pretty eyes on the feeds and tell me if someone’s gonna try and sneak up on me.”
“Always do,” you shot back, smiling despite the tension in the air.
There was a pause on his end, and then: “What’s the fastest way to the office from here?”
You glanced at the building’s layout, quickly mapping out a route in your head. “Take the staircase to your right, follow the hallway down two doors, then take a left. You should be able to bypass most of the guards that way. Just… watch for the tripwires.”
“Roger that. Stay on me, Phantom.”
“Like I’m ever not.” You kept your eyes glued to the screen as Logan moved through the facility with practiced ease. Despite the tension thrumming through your veins, there was a strange calmness in listening to his breathing over the comms, knowing you were right there with him, even if it was only in a digital sense.
“How’s it look up ahead?” he asked after a few moments of silence.
“Two guards at the end of the hall,” you reported, zooming in on one of the feeds. “They’re armed, but they’re not paying attention. You should be able to take them out quietly.”
Logan didn’t respond, but you saw him slip into the corridor, moving like a shadow. A few seconds later, both guards were down, and he was back on the line. “Clear.”
“Nice work, Wolf.” You leaned forward, fingers flying over the keyboard to hack into the security system. “I’m disabling the cameras on the next floor. You should have a clear path to the office, but I’m picking up some chatter—looks like they’re getting suspicious.”
“Let ‘em get suspicious.” There was a low, dangerous edge to his voice now. “I’m ready.”
You couldn’t help but grin a little. “That makes one of us.”
“C’mon, Phantom, you know you love this shit,” he teased, but there was a warmth in his tone that made your heart skip a beat. “All that adrenaline. Gets the blood pumpin’, doesn’t it?”
You bit your lip, shaking your head even though he couldn’t see you. “I’m not the one out there risking my neck. That’s your job.”
“Yeah, well… you’re doin’ a hell of a job keepin’ me from getting my ass shot off.” There was a pause, and then he added, almost softly, “Don’t know what I’d do without you, darlin’.”
You blinked at the screen, momentarily caught off guard by his words. “...Just stay focused, Wolf. I’m not pulling your ass out of this if you get cocky.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart. I’m good.” His voice turned serious again as he approached the central office. “I’m at the door. How many inside?”
You quickly cycled through the cameras, counting the figures inside. “Three guards. One unarmed. That’s the target. If you move quick, you should be able to neutralize them before they call for backup.”
“Got it.” Logan’s voice was low, almost a growl. You watched as he shifted his weight, preparing to make his move. It was always a little nerve-wracking, watching him go in like this, but you trusted him. He knew what he was doing.
Your fingers danced over the keyboard, disabling the cameras in the immediate area. “I’m taking out the cameras around the office. You’re clear for entry. Make it fast, Wolf.”
“Don’t worry. I’m on it.” He paused for a beat. “How’s the rest of the team doin’?”
You glanced at the other feeds, tracking the movements of the different teams scattered throughout the building. “Team Alpha just took out the last of the perimeter guards. Bravo’s securing the exits—no one’s getting in or out without us knowing.”
“Good. Let’s end this.” There was a soft click as Logan pushed the door open, slipping inside the office with deadly precision.
The guards barely had time to react. You watched in awe as he took them down with a combination of swift strikes and quick, lethal movements. He was a blur of action, and within seconds, the only people left standing were Logan and the target—an older man who looked like he’d just seen a ghost.
“Please, don’t—” the man stammered, holding up his hands in a pathetic attempt at self-defense.
“Shut up,” Logan growled, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the wall. “You’re gonna answer a few questions for me.”
You leaned closer to the screen, keeping an eye on the other guards roaming the hallways. “Careful, Wolf. We don’t know if he’s got any backup on standby.”
“Yeah, I got it.” He gave the man a rough shake. “Who’s runnin’ this operation? Where’s the rest of the mutants you’ve been trafficking?”
The man sputtered, his face pale. “I—I don’t know! I just handle the logistics—transport, security—”
“Bullshit.” Logan’s claws extended with a sharp snikt, and you could hear the man’s terrified gasp even through the comms. “Try again, bub. And don’t lie to me.”
You zoomed in on the screen, checking for any signs of incoming guards. “Logan, I’m picking up movement on the lower levels. It’s not one of ours—looks like reinforcements. You need to hurry.”
“Copy that.” He leaned in closer to the man, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Last chance. Where are the mutants?”
“Storage room—basement level—cage twelve!” The man practically screamed the words, his eyes wide with fear. “Please, I swear, that’s all I know!”
“Storage room, basement level, cage twelve,” you repeated quickly, already pulling up the layout of the basement. “I’m sending the coordinates to Team Bravo now.”
“Good.” Logan released the man, who slumped to the floor, trembling. He stepped back, claws retracting. “Now sit tight. You’re gonna have some company soon.”
The man whimpered but didn’t move as Logan turned and made his way out of the office. You switched your focus back to the basement, watching as Team Bravo moved in to secure the mutants.
“They’re in position,” you reported, keeping your voice calm. “Looks like… ten, no, twelve mutants total. All of them are alive.”
“Alive, huh?” Logan’s voice softened just a fraction. “That’s somethin’, at least.”
“Yeah.” You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. After months of hunting down leads, false starts, and dead ends, it was finally coming together. “We did it, Wolf.”
“Not yet, we haven’t.” His tone turned serious again. “We still gotta get ‘em outta here. You got a path?”
“Working on it.” Your fingers flew over the keyboard, pulling up the building’s blueprints. “Okay, there’s an access tunnel two levels down from where you are. It leads straight to an underground parking garage. If you can get them there, we’ll have transport waiting.”
“Got it. I’ll head down now.” He paused for a moment, then added quietly, “Good work, Phantom.”
You felt a warmth spread through you at the unexpected praise. “Same to you, Wolf. Just… stay safe, okay?”
There was a soft chuckle on the other end. “Don’t you worry ‘bout me, darlin’. You just keep doin’ what you do best.”
You stayed on the line, guiding him through the lower levels as he made his way to the basement. The rest of the mission went off like clockwork—Team Bravo secured the mutants, Team Alpha kept the perimeter locked down, and Logan made sure no one got in their way.
By the time it was all over, the mutants were safe, the ring was shut down, and the remaining traffickers were either captured or taken out. It was a resounding success, and yet, as you watched Logan emerge from the building, something inside you felt… off.
“Logan?” you called out softly, your voice hesitant. “You good?”
“Yeah. Just tired.” He sounded a little rough around the edges, but that was to be expected after a mission like this. “What about you? You doin’ okay?”
You let out a soft breath, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah, I’m good. Just… glad it’s over, I guess.”
“Yeah.” There was a pause, and then he added, “You did good tonight, Phantom. Real good.”
“Thanks, Wolf.” You smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”
He grunted softly, the sound almost affectionate. “Bet you say that to all the guys you babysit.”
“Only the ones I like,” you teased, feeling a little bolder now that the mission was over. “But seriously… thanks for trusting me out there. I know it’s not easy.”
“Trust ain’t somethin’ I give lightly,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere. “But you earned it. Over and over.”
You didn’t know what to say to that, so you settled for a soft, “...I’m glad.”
There was another beat of silence, and then Logan’s voice came back, a little lighter. “So, when am I gettin’ that chocolate croissant?”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Guess you’ll just have to swing by my bakery sometime, huh?”
“Maybe I will.” He sounded thoughtful, like he was considering it for the first time. “Soon as I figure out where the hell it is.”
“Good luck with that,” you teased, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nerves. “But if you do find it… first croissant’s on me.”
“I’ll hold you to that, darlin’.” There was a warm, teasing lilt to his voice now. “Take care, Phantom.”
“You too, Wolf.”
And with that, the line went quiet. You stared at the screen for a moment longer, a smile tugging at your lips. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a step—toward something new, something real.
Maybe one day, you’d get to see the look on Logan’s face when he finally tasted one of your croissants.
But for now, this was enough.
---
It had been a few weeks since the mutant trafficking ring was taken down, and since then, things from The Organization had been quiet. You were sure that soon, something would happen, and you’d have a new mission or cause to fight for, but for now, life was… normal. Or, as normal as things could get for you.
During the day, you focused on your bakery. The smell of freshly baked bread and sweet pastries filled the small space, the steady hum of business keeping you busy. You didn’t have to think about The Organization or anything outside of kneading dough and serving customers. It was a welcome change of pace, a grounding routine that gave you some much-needed breathing room.
But at night, when the bakery was closed and the streets outside your shop went quiet, your mind wandered back to Logan—and those long conversations over the comms. The teasing back and forth. The gruff but genuine praise. The way he’d been so protective of you, even when you were just a voice in his ear.
You leaned against the counter, wiping your hands on your apron as you glanced around your empty shop. The bell above the door jingled, and you glanced up, expecting to see one of your regulars who’d forgotten to grab something before closing.
But it wasn’t one of your regulars.
It was him.
Logan.
He stood in the doorway, his broad frame almost filling it completely. A beat of silence passed as you stared at each other, and then he stepped inside, his boots making a soft thud against the wooden floor.
“Hey, darlin’.” His voice was the same deep, rough tone you remembered, and yet hearing it in person made your heart skip a beat. He glanced around the bakery, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Figured I’d finally swing by and see if your croissants live up to the hype.”
For a moment, you couldn’t speak. He was here. Here. In your bakery, standing in front of you like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Logan?” You blinked, trying to wrap your mind around it. “How—how did you find me?”
He shrugged like it was nothing, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Did a little diggin’. Asked around. Turns out you’re not as good at hiding as you think.”
You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, a mix of surprise and… something else. “And you just—decided to show up out of nowhere?”
“Thought you could use some company,” he replied easily, but there was a seriousness in his gaze that told you this wasn’t just a casual visit. “Been too quiet lately. I don’t do quiet well.”
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”
“Neither can I,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he glanced at the display case filled with pastries. “But since I am… you gonna give me that croissant, or what?”
The corner of your mouth lifted, and you reached behind the counter, pulling out a fresh chocolate croissant. You placed it on a small plate, sliding it across to him. “First one’s on the house, remember?”
Logan took the plate, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest of moments. A spark shot through you, but you quickly pulled your hand back, pretending like it hadn’t happened.
He lifted the croissant, inspecting it with a critical eye before taking a bite. You watched, holding your breath as he chewed thoughtfully. Then, he swallowed and nodded.
“Not bad, Phantom. Not bad at all.”
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, a smile breaking out on your face. “Just ‘not bad?’ I think I’m a little insulted.”
He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Okay, fine. It’s good. Real good.” He took another bite, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t ya?”
“I could say the same about you.” You leaned against the counter, studying him. In the soft light of the bakery, he looked a little more relaxed, less guarded. There was still that roughness to him, but there was something else, too—a quiet sort of contentment. “So, what’s the real reason you’re here, Logan?”
He raised an eyebrow, finishing off the croissant before setting the plate down. “What, a guy can’t visit his favorite hacker?”
“Nice try.” You gave him a look, crossing your arms. “But I know you better than that.”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe I just wanted to see for myself that you’re okay. That this place is real. That you’re… real.”
You felt something tighten in your chest, your gaze softening. “I’m real, Logan. You know that.”
“Yeah.” He looked around again, as if trying to memorize every detail of your little shop. “But it’s different, seein’ it with my own eyes.”
There was a weight to his words, a sincerity that made your heart ache a little. You’d spent so many nights talking to him, listening to his voice, getting to know him in a way that felt almost… intimate. And now he was here, standing in front of you, and it felt like a dream.
“Do you—” You hesitated, biting your lip. “Do you want to stay for a bit? I’ve got coffee. Or tea, if that’s more your style.”
Logan’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Coffee sounds good.”
You turned to make a fresh pot, your hands moving on autopilot as your mind raced. What did this mean? Why now? You’d thought maybe, someday, you’d meet Logan in person, but you hadn’t expected it to be like this—so sudden, so… normal.
“So,” Logan drawled, leaning against the counter as he watched you, “what’s next for you? Gonna hang up your hacker hat and just focus on bakin’?”
You glanced over your shoulder, giving him a wry smile. “You think I could actually stay out of trouble for long?”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “Nah. Don’t think you’re cut out for the quiet life, darlin’.”
“Guess we have that in common, huh?” You poured the coffee, sliding a mug over to him. “But for now… I’m taking a little break. I think I’ve earned it.”
“Yeah, you have.” He took the mug, his fingers brushing against yours again. This time, neither of you pulled away. “So… what’s the plan now? Just you and the bakery?”
“For now.” You shrugged, looking around the shop. “It’s nice. Calming, even. Keeps me grounded.”
Logan studied you for a long moment, his gaze intent. “You know, I never pictured you like this. With flour on your apron and—what’s that?” He reached out, brushing his thumb lightly against your cheek. “Frostin’ on your face?”
You froze at the contact, your breath catching in your throat. His touch was surprisingly gentle, the roughness of his thumb contrasting with the softness of your skin. You stared at him, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy of the moment.
“I—uh—” You cleared your throat, feeling your face heat up. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”
“Hmm.” His thumb lingered for a heartbeat longer, then he pulled back, his expression softening. “Guess it suits you.”
You swallowed, trying to steady your racing heart. “What about you? What’s next for the great Wolverine? Gonna go back to the X-Men?”
Logan chuckled, leaning back slightly as he sipped his coffee. “Who said I ever left? Maybe I was doin’ this as my side job.”
You raised an eyebrow, giving him a playful look. “Oh, so the big bad Wolverine has a side hustle now? Should I be worried you’re going to start making croissants too?”
He smirked. “Nah, I’ll leave the bakin’ to you. But maybe I’ll stick around, see how things go.” His eyes held yours, that familiar teasing edge mixed with something else—a quiet intensity.
“Stick around?” you asked, not entirely sure where he was going with this. “In New York? Thought you weren’t a fan of big cities.”
Logan shrugged, his gaze flicking around your cozy bakery again. “It grows on ya. Plus, I got reasons to hang around now.”
The way he said it, so casual but pointed, made your heart skip a beat. “Reasons, huh?”
He leaned forward, setting his mug down on the counter. “Yeah, Phantom. You think I spent all those nights listenin’ to you talk, gettin’ to know you, just to go back to business as usual?”
You blinked, caught off guard by the directness of his words. You tried to bring things back to normal, to calm your racing heart, but perhaps you only made it worse with his response. “Y- you don’t have to call me that, you know? Or- anymore, at least.”
Logan’s eyes locked onto yours, a spark of curiosity flickering in his gaze. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the counter. “Oh yeah? So, what should I call ya?”
You hesitated, feeling the weight of his question. It was such a simple thing—your real name. Something you’d kept hidden, not out of fear, but because keeping a wall between your real life and Phantom had made things… easier. Safer, even. But you felt safe with him standing in front of you, even if it was the first time meeting face to face.
“Y/N.” You finally said, quietly with a small smile.
Logan’s eyes softened, something shifting in his expression as he repeated your name—almost testing it out. “Y/N, huh? Suits you.”
You shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the warmth spreading through your chest. “Figured it was time to be on a first-name basis, Wolf.”
His lips twitched into a smirk at the nickname. “Wolf,” he repeated, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. “You’ve been callin’ me that for months. Thought you’d drop it once I was standin’ right in front of ya.”
“Why would I do that?” you shot back, your smile growing a little more confident. “It suits you, Wolf.”
Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “Fair enough.” He leaned back, his gaze never leaving yours. “Guess I’ll stick with ‘Phantom’ for old times’ sake.”
“‘Y/N’ is fine,” you said softly. “I think we’re past codenames.”
He nodded slowly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Y/N, then.” The way he said it—slow and deliberate—made your heart flutter. There was something so personal about it, so… intimate. You’d spent so long hiding behind ‘Phantom’ that hearing your real name in his voice felt almost surreal.
You glanced down at the counter, clearing your throat to break the tension. “So,” you said slowly, a hint of mischief creeping into your tone, “now that you’ve tried my croissants, what’s next on the list? Gonna critique my muffins too?”
Logan’s smirk widened, his eyes glinting. “Oh, I’m definitely stickin’ around long enough to try everything on that menu, darlin’. Gotta make sure it’s all up to snuff.”
“Uh-huh. Just don’t expect me to bake for you every day,” you teased, but there was a warmth in your voice that you couldn’t quite hide.
“I dunno,” he drawled, leaning forward slightly, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone. “Kinda like the idea of you makin’ me breakfast.”
Your heart skipped a beat, your breath catching in your throat. You chuckled back at him, putting the towel in your hand over your shoulder, “yeah? Bet you say that to all the women you meet.”
Logan’s smirk grew, the corner of his mouth lifting in that way you’d come to recognize as trouble. “You think I go around findin’ bakeries just to get breakfast from pretty hackers?”
“Pretty hackers?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t know I was your type, Wolf.”
He shrugged, leaning back in his chair with an easy confidence. “You’re my type if you keep makin’ croissants like that.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Nice recovery.”
There was a beat of silence, and Logan’s smirk softened, replaced by a more thoughtful look. His eyes swept around the shop again, taking in the cozy space as if trying to understand something deeper about it—about you.
“This place,” he said quietly, breaking the silence. “It’s yours, huh?”
“Yeah,” you replied, a touch of pride in your voice. “Bought it a couple of years ago. Did most of the renovations myself. Not the hacking kind, though.”
Logan nodded, his gaze lingering on the shelves lined with baked goods and the flour-dusted counter. “Figured you’d be in some high-tech lab or somethin’. Not… this.”
You smiled, glancing around your bakery. “What? Don’t think I can bake and hack at the same time?”
“Nah, it’s not that.” He paused, his brow furrowing slightly as if he were searching for the right words. “Guess I just never thought about what your life looked like when you weren’t on a mission.”
“Well,” you said softly, meeting his eyes. “This is it. Flour, sugar, and a whole lot of early mornings.”
Logan tilted his head, studying you like he was seeing a whole new side of you. “It suits ya.”
You shrugged, feeling a bit exposed under his gaze. “It’s not as exciting as fighting bad guys, but… it’s mine.”
“Doesn’t have to be exciting all the time,” he murmured. His voice was quieter now, more serious, and it made you pause. “Sometimes… it’s the quiet stuff that matters.”
You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, your heart doing that annoying fluttering thing it did whenever he got unexpectedly sincere. “Yeah, well, quiet doesn’t seem to be your style, Logan.”
He chuckled, a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. “Yeah, guess not. But maybe I’m workin’ on that.”
You gave him a playful smirk. “You? Working on ‘quiet’? I’ll believe it when I see it.”
He leaned forward, his arms resting on the counter as he looked at you, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Maybe you’ll see it sooner than you think.”
Your teasing smile faltered slightly, your heartbeat picking up again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Logan held your gaze for a long moment, something unspoken hanging in the air between you. “Means I’m stickin’ around, Y/N. If you’re okay with that.”
Your breath caught at the way he said your name—your real name, not Phantom. There was a weight to it, like he wasn’t just talking about the bakery or the city. He was talking about you.
“Logan,” you started, your voice a little shaky as you tried to keep it light, “are you saying you want to be a regular customer?”
He smirked, but the seriousness in his eyes didn’t fade. “Somethin’ like that. Thought maybe I’d get to know the person behind the croissants… and the computer screens.”
Your heart raced, and you couldn’t help but smile, even though you felt a little breathless. “Well, considering you just showed up without a warning, I’d say you’re off to a good start.”
Logan’s smirk widened. “Always liked makin’ an entrance.”
“Yeah, well,” you said, shaking your head, “next time, maybe give a girl a little heads-up.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” he teased, though his voice had softened.
You didn’t have a snappy comeback for that, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The bakery felt smaller, quieter, like the world outside had paused, leaving just the two of you in this little bubble. You’d known him for months, heard his voice in your ear during some of the craziest situations, but this—standing here in the same room, with him right there—felt different. Real.
“So,” you said after a beat, your voice a little quieter now, “what’s the plan? You just gonna hang out in New York for a while? Or…?”
Logan shrugged, but there was something thoughtful in his expression. “Dunno. Figure I’ll stick around, see how things play out. Been on the move too long. Might be time to slow down a bit.”
“Slow down?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. “You?”
He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t sound like me, does it?”
You smiled, leaning against the counter. “Well, if you’re serious about sticking around, you’d better be ready for a lot of early mornings.”
Logan’s gaze flicked to the flour on your apron and the slight mess on the counter. “Early mornings, huh? Guess I can handle that. Long as there’s coffee.”
You laughed softly, feeling that familiar warmth in your chest again. “I think I can manage that.”
There was another pause, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet that felt… nice. Like neither of you were in a rush to fill the space with words.
Finally, Logan straightened up, glancing toward the door. “Guess I’ll let ya get back to it. Don’t wanna keep you too long.”
You felt a flicker of disappointment, but you quickly pushed it down, giving him a smile instead. “You’re always welcome, you know. Next time, I’ll save you a muffin.”
Logan’s smirk returned, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’ll hold you to that, darlin’.”
He took a step toward the door, but then he paused, glancing back at you. “Y/N?”
“Yeah?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat at the way he said your name again.
“Don’t be a stranger,” he said softly, his gaze holding yours for just a moment longer before he turned and walked out the door, the bell above it jingling softly in his wake.
You stood there for a long moment, staring at the door long after he was gone, your heart still racing.
---
Logan’s unexpected visit left you in a whirlwind. For the next few days, it was hard to focus on the usual routines of the bakery. Each time the bell over the door chimed, your heart leapt a little, thinking maybe, just maybe, it’d be him again. But Logan didn’t show, and you tried to remind yourself not to overthink it. He was just… being Logan. Coming and going as he pleased, without a word or explanation.
But then, one evening, just as you were flipping the Open sign to Closed, you noticed something slipped under the door—a folded piece of paper with your name scrawled across it in a familiar, rugged handwriting.
You picked it up, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, and opened it.
Got a place in mind. Be ready at 7. —W
No address. No other details. Just a time and a cryptic note.
You found yourself smiling despite your confusion. Of course, he’d pull something like this. He couldn’t just ask you to dinner like a normal person—he had to be all mysterious about it. But then again, it was part of his charm.
The day passed in a blur. By the time you were getting ready, nerves had settled in. What exactly did Logan mean by ‘got a place in mind’? Was this a date? Just… friends hanging out?
You pushed the thoughts away and focused on getting dressed. Something casual, but not too casual. Comfortable, but still showing you’d put in some effort. You settled on a pair of well-fitting jeans and a soft sweater that was flattering but not over-the-top.
Right at 7, there was a soft knock on your door. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself, and opened it.
Logan stood there, looking the same as always and yet… different. Maybe it was the way he’d traded his usual jacket for a dark button-down, or the fact that he looked a bit unsure himself, his gaze flicking over you in silent appraisal before settling on your eyes.
“You look good,” he said, his voice gruff, but there was an honesty in his tone that made your cheeks warm.
“Not bad yourself, Wolf,” you replied, earning a small, almost shy smile from him.
“Ready?” he asked, holding out his hand.
“Ready,” you confirmed, and you stepped outside, locking the door behind you.
---
Logan had borrowed a bike—one of those big, heavy motorcycles that roared to life when he turned the ignition. He tossed you a helmet, then helped you onto the back. Your hands found their way around his waist, your fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just that—your arms around him, the rumble of the engine beneath you, and the feel of his solid form against you.
“Hold on tight, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice low and rough in a way that made you shiver.
The ride through the city was exhilarating, the cool night air whipping past you as Logan navigated the streets with ease. You had no idea where he was taking you, but you trusted him. You’d always trusted him.
Finally, he pulled up to a secluded spot along the East River, away from the usual tourist traps and bustling crowds. You could see the lights of the city skyline reflected in the water, the soft sounds of the river lapping at the shore creating a serene backdrop. There was a small wooden table set up nearby, with a blanket laid out and a picnic basket resting on top of it.
You blinked in surprise, glancing between the setup and Logan. “Did… did you do this?”
Logan rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. “Yeah, well. Figured we’ve had enough high-stakes meetin’s. Thought you deserved somethin’ different.”
Your heart melted a little at that. He’d gone through the trouble of planning something just for you—a quiet evening, just the two of you, away from the chaos of missions and comms.
“It’s perfect,” you said softly, meeting his eyes.
He gave a small nod, visibly relieved by your reaction. “Good. Now c’mon, let’s eat before it gets too cold.”
The two of you settled down at the table, and you couldn’t help but smile as Logan unpacked the basket. It was mostly simple stuff—sandwiches, fruit, a bottle of wine—but there was an almost endearing quality to it, like he’d put in effort but hadn’t tried to overdo it.
“Didn’t know what you liked, so I kinda… winged it,” he admitted, glancing at you almost nervously.
“It’s perfect,” you repeated, smiling at him. “And honestly? I’m just happy you’re here.”
Logan’s gaze softened, his eyes lingering on you in that way that made your stomach flip. “Yeah. Me too.”
The conversation flowed easily after that. You talked about everything and nothing—the bakery, old missions, even random bits about your lives that had never come up before. He was surprisingly open, and you found yourself sharing more than you usually would, the relaxed atmosphere making it easy to let your guard down.
As the evening went on, you found yourself inching closer to him. At some point, the two of you ended up side by side on the blanket, the picnic basket forgotten as you stared out at the lights reflecting on the water.
There was a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled. You glanced over at Logan, feeling that familiar flutter in your chest. He was looking at you with an expression that was hard to read—soft, almost contemplative.
“What?” you asked softly, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.
“Just thinkin’,” he murmured, his voice low and rumbling. “You’re even prettier in person, you know that?”
You felt your face heat up, and you looked away, letting out a soft laugh. “Logan—”
“I mean it,” he interrupted gently, reaching out to brush your cheek. His touch was light, tentative, like he wasn’t quite sure if it was okay. “Been drivin’ myself crazy, wonderin’ what you’d look like. But seein’ you now… Hell, Y/N, I don’t think I did you justice.”
Your breath caught at the way he said your name, his gaze intense and unwavering. There was something raw and honest in his expression, like he was laying himself bare in a way you hadn’t expected.
“Logan…” you whispered, the words dying on your lips as he leaned in, his face inches from yours.
“I shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he murmured, his voice low and almost regretful. But he didn’t move away. If anything, he shifted closer, his breath brushing against your skin. “But I’ve been wantin’ to since the moment I heard your voice.”
Your heart was pounding, every nerve in your body alive with anticipation. “Then don’t stop,” you whispered, your own voice trembling.
Logan’s gaze flicked down to your lips, and for a heartbeat, everything seemed to freeze. Then, slowly—like he was giving you every chance to pull away—he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, most tentative of kisses.
It was gentle at first, like he was testing the waters, but when you didn’t pull back—when you leaned in, your fingers tangling in the front of his shirt—something seemed to break. He deepened the kiss, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.
The kiss was everything you hadn’t known you’d been waiting for—slow and sweet, but with an underlying intensity that left you breathless. You melted into him, the world around you fading away until there was nothing left but the feel of his lips on yours and the warmth of his hand against your cheek.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, you were both breathing hard, your hearts racing in sync.
“Damn, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice rough and low. “Didn’t think it’d feel like that.”
You laughed softly, your own voice a little shaky. “Yeah. Me neither.”
Logan smiled—a real, genuine smile that made your heart ache. “Think we should do it again?”
You grinned up at him, feeling lighter than you had in ages. “Yeah, Wolf. I think we should.”
907 notes · View notes
elllisaaa · 7 months ago
Note
Hey, how are you? First of all, I just want to say that I'm absolutely in love with your writing 🥹 you make it so fluid and fun to read 🖤
I'd like to ask a scenario/reaction for seventeen (ot13 individually, if possible) in which they have have a crush on reader, and then the reader gets cold and some other member offers them their hoodie, and they get kinda jealous and then might come up with some excuse for the reader to use their hoodie instead or something else of the sort. You can decide what each of them will do on your own, I wanna read it hehe
But just making it obvious they have a crush, even if they think they are not
Thank youuu, hope you have fun 🖤🖤
hiii lovely !! i'm doing good and i hope you are great too ! and thank you so much for these compliments, i'm glad to hear that you like my writing !! this was so fun and adorable to write even if it took me a looot of time but i hope you'll still like it ! thank you for sending in an ask !
seventeen getting jealous of you wearing another member's hoodie
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-> pairing : svt × gn!reader
-> words count : 1.6k words
-> genre : fluff
-> sorry if I made any mistakes, english is not my first language.
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !
-> masterlist | svt masterlist
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CHOI SEUNGCHEOL
He truly loves Jeonghan, he really does. But to see him smirk at him while giving you one of his hoodies was not on his bingo card of their friendship. He knew how teasing Jeonghan could get, but to do that when he perfectly knew the fat crush Seungcheol had on you felt wrong. He would get a little pouty, crossing his arms and shooting deadly glares at his friend. Right before you all had to leave for the bar, he told you that the color of Jeonghan’s hoodie was absolutely not fitting with the rest of your outfit and handed you one of his in a color that was going so much better with your other clothes. Cheol is very proud of the annoyed look on his friend’s face, and the sweet smile you give him as thank you.
YOON JEONGHAN
When he gets back from the store and sees you all comfy in Joshua’s hoodie, he’s not having it. He plays it off, asking you who this belongs to since it’s clearly not your usual style. And you give him exactly the answer he was waiting for. Jeonghan gives the piece of clothing a judging look but says nothing and just leaves for a few minutes. When he comes back, he throws another hoodie at you, one of his. And when you ask what was the problem with the one you had on, he argues that it doesn’t fit your aesthetic. You are a little confused but still put on Jeonghan's hoodie. He will spend the rest of the day watching over you with a little smirk on his face, proud of seeing you wear his clothes. 
HONG JOSHUA
I feel like Joshua is not so much a jealous guy but more of a possessive person. So he does not feel very jealous at seeing you wearing Jun’s hoodie, but he wants to make it clear that you’re his crush and not anyone else’s. He’s not even trying to hide it, it’s comical at this point. Joshua is straight up telling you that he would like it better if you wore his hoodie instead. He loves how you get a little shy by his bold demand but still agree, immediately taking off Jun’s hoodie and putting on the one Joshua is handing you. He will be so touchy the whole day, making it even more obvious that he wants you to be his. 
MOON JUNHUI
He’s so fucking smooth about it. Jun doesn’t want to see you wearing Soonyoung’s hoodie, even if he’s your best friend, but he doesn’t wanna make it too obvious either. He wants to confess properly, not giving it away because he’s jealous. So he will tell you that the hoodie your friend gave you had a stain on it, and that you couldn’t wear it for when you will all go out after lunch. Jun so kindly offered one of his instead, discarding the other boy's clothes and giving you one of his hoodies.  He feels a little bad for Soonyoung for one second, and then you flash him your prettiest smile and he doesn’t even know what guilt is anymore. 
KWON SOONYOUNG
On the contrary, Soonyoung is so fucking obvious, it’s painful for everyone else watching. As soon as he saw you walking around in Wonwoo’s hoodie, he got pouty, refusing to talk to you. His argument ? It’s a betrayal to your friendship, regarding the fact that he’s your best friend and that Wonwoo is not. He’s such a baby about it, it’s cute. And Soonyong will keep crying about it until you finally give in and accept to take one of his sweaters instead. Except that he completely forgot to do his laundry and there is no more clean hoodie for you. It’s pretty comical to see his face fall and his pout return. 
JEON WONWOO
As I’ve already stated, Wonwoo is not a jealous person, especially over his crush that is not even his partner yet. So he will not try to absolutely get you to not wear Jihoon’s hoodie or come up with an excuse like the others, even if he would’ve preferred if you wore his, just so it could smell like you once you give it back. Next time though, he’ll be prepared, either with a spare hoodie, or by wearing an outfit that allows him to give you his hoodie without getting too cold. And to think that Wonwoo does this just for you makes you feel all giddy inside, and when you make sure to acknowledge and appreciate his efforts, it’s his turn to get a little shy and bashful (he’s so cute i’m dying). 
LEE JIHOON
I swear he’s stopping it before it even happens. He told you before going to take a spare hoodie or jacket with you because even if the weather was good, it would start to get colder soon. But as usual, you didn’t listen to him because it would’ve ruined your cute little outfit. Jihoon knew that you would end up complaining because you were cold, and that’s why he put on a hoodie himself - just so he could give it to you. But he wasn’t ready for how fast Seokmin offered to take his off and give it to you. But Jihoon is quicker and he is handing you his sweater before you even had the time to respond to his friend. We love a careful king like him.
LEE SEOKMIN
Another who’s a baby about it and so not subtle about it. He sees you laughing about how big Mingyu’s hoodie looks on you. And even though you’re not wrong, Seokmin knows that his sweaters would look big on you too, and that they would even suit you more because the colors he has match your style better than his friend’s. You can see how unhappy he is about the whole thing, and you take this opportunity to tease him a little. Seokmin would not even try to hide it, arguing that if you wanted to wear an oversized hoodie, you could’ve asked for his instead. He will only stop pouting when you agree to wear one of his. 
KIM MINGYU
This big bay is sulking, like you had just back-stabbed him. And it’s only because you’re always barging about how big and oversized hoodies are the best ones, and here you are, wearing one of Minghao’s when you could’ve asked Mingyu and it would have been even bigger. He’s not telling you anything though, even if it’s kinda obvious that he’s upset over something. The next time you’re asking Mingyu about his opinion on your outfit, he doesn’t remind you to bring a jacket with you only so he could hand you his sweater and watch you drown into the fabric. Bonus point if you give it back without washing it and it still has your perfume and scent on it. 
XU MINGHAO
Minghao would not say anything about the fact that you were currently wearing Seungkwan hoodie’s, but he would still give his member a kind of side eye when he comments on how well the piece of clothing suits you. During dinner, he will unfortunately drop some food on the sweater. Oh no ! But don’t worry, he will give you one of his instead so you can stay warm. Minghao will ignore all night how Seungkwan is sulking and will simply smile at you when you say that his hoodie is very soft. It’s just feeling very right to see you walking around in his clothes, and he definitely wouldn’t mind seeing you wear them more.
BOO SEUNGKWAN
He’s not having it, like at all. Especially since he’s very obvious about his crush on you around his members, and that they all know how much he loves you, he doesn’t like the fact that you’re wearing Hansol’s clothes. Seungkwan is not even really jealous, he’s only mad at his friend for doing this even though he knows everything. He’s giving deadly glares to Hansol all day, as if he really wanted to kill him for handing you his hoodie. He knows that he’s only doing this to tease him, but still. When you ask Seungkwan what’s wrong, he’s only telling you that he’s in a bad mood. But from now on, he will jump in before anyone else if you ever need a hoodie. 
CHWE HANSOL
Nobody knows about Hansol’s crush on you, because it is no one else’s business. So he can’t be upset at Chan for giving you his hoodie because you were cold, he just wished he was quicker and gave you his. And it even feels strange that you accepted his friend’s clothing, because Hansol had told you countless times that you could borrow anything from his room, even when he was not there. Later on, he will ask you why you were wearing Chan’s hoodie, thinking that his approach was casual (even when it’s really not). When you explained that you just didn’t want to make him feel bad when he offered, Hansol simply nodded. But his cheeks quickly turned red when you admitted prefering to wear his sweater. 
LEE CHAN
Chan really tries hard to not show his crush on you, but the way he looks at you is not as subtle as he thinks and everyone has understood what was going on, even you. Hence why you’re wearing one of Seungcheol hoodie’s right now. Yes, Chan is kinda obvious, but you still want to be 100% sure that he won’t reject you. And what better than jealousy ? Plus, he’s always making a point of giving you his clothes when you’re cold, so he doesn’t understand why you didn’t ask him this time. He’s pouting and sulking for sure, even complaining to his hyung about how he’s trying to steal his crush. Honestly, he’s just very cute and he’s being a baby. The only way to get him to smile again is by agreeing to take his hoodie instead. 
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-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.
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svt tagglist (fill in this to be added) :
@lil-kpopstan @hann1bee @iraisswiftie @bewoyewo @lichyuu
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reiderwriter · 5 months ago
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🕯 Ring of Fire 🕯
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Pairing: sub!Spencer Reid x dom!Female reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge (sort of lol)
Requested: could you do glasses sub!spencer realizing he has a wax play kink? yk maybe reader accidentally spills her wax melt off her desk at work and it goes on to spencer making him realize he’s into it so the next day he picks up sex wax and he asks her to do it when they get home?
Warnings: BDSM themes, standard case details mentioned, temperature play, wax play, dry humping, thigh riding, hand job, penetrative sex (p in v), overstimulation, implied cream pie, choking, mentions of rope play, sub!Spencer and dom!reader, dumbification/bimbofication.
A/N: This one was just for fun. I literally already crossed off the free space. This is just for shits and giggles. Well. Enjoy?
Masterlist || Bingo Board
“So you're telling me our vic was turned into a candle?” Morgan mused from the corner of the room, frowning down at the new body in front of him. Or at least where the body had been a half hour ago, the only sign remaining being the errant drops of wax strewn about the bed and the caution tape closing your entire crew into the room. 
“Not exactly,” Emily said from the other corner, pulling up a pair of fluffy handcuffs with a pen from her jacket and dropping it into the evidence bag JJ held out to her. 
“So a kinky candle, got it,” you smiled, looking over at the other goodies Emily had uncovered. 
“Morgan, those candles, can you check what kind of wax they are?” Spencer said from the corner, looking up with that look on his face. Half curious, half flipping through the deck of index cards he had stored in the filing cabinet of his brain, looking for the right piece of information. He pushed his glasses up his nose and stared intently over at Morgan, waiting for his answer.
“It says they're organic beeswax candles.”
“There's also some soy candles stored here in the closer, Spencer,” JJ pointed out, waiting, as you all were, for his brain to click the right information into place. 
“The victim seems obviously well versed in BDSM. He seems to be a seasoned submissive, but…” 
“But what?” You asked, trying to distract yourself from the excitement the words submissive coming from Spencer created in you. 
“The melting point of beeswax is 143-149° Fahrenheit. It's unsafe for temperature play, and it would have caused intense pain if not second or third-degree burns on his body. That's why he has the soy candles. Their melting point is as low as 114°. Those are the candles he was expecting.”
The shared looks around the room said that you were all contemplating the implications of his rambling. 
“So that candle isn't part of his collection, but something the unsub bought himself,” Hotch concluded for the team. “Good work, Spencer.”
The room cleared quickly after that, with each team member assigned different roles and tasks to keep the momentum going until it was just you and Spencer left, searching for anything else that could be helpful. He had a keen eye, and you… well, you were great at directing him. 
“That was clever,” you said, pulling on your rubber gloves and getting to work rooting through the kink closet. “With the wax.”
“Thanks,” he said, and something aching and feminine crushed through you as you noted the small stammer in his voice, the hesitant blush on his cheeks.
“You have such a lot of knowledge up there,” you said, tapping your forehead, so he could get the full picture, making sure you had his attention before you dropped to your knees and started your searching. 
“Hmm?” He said, and you knew he wasn't listening anymore. His eyes had glazed over behind those glasses, and even the glare in them couldn't hide that his gaze was entirely on you.
Spencer had always been sharp as a whistle, thinking too much for his own good. Until you had crawled into his bed that first time and convinced him that giving up thinking altogether really was for the best. 
Since then, it really hadn't been all that hard to convince him to turn it off and release that stress. 
“You know a lot about wax, is all,” you said, shrugging him off with a bored look and not bothering to look back at him. You knew that you'd just see a man desperate for your attention staring back at you anyway. 
“It seems like you had experience.”
“Ah, um, no, ahem,” he squeaked, clearing his throat quickly. “No…experience, I just... read about it once?” He was so nervous, he seemed suddenly so unsure of himself.
You finally smiled up at him from your place on the floor, watching him move around trinkets on the victims desk before looking back at you. 
“Good,” you said and stood up, confident that his eyes and thoughts wouldn't leave you now. 
“But if you ever find yourself curious, you know where I’ll be.”
You weren't expecting him to accept your invitation quickly. You'd admitted to yourself that anything remotely case related quite so soon was probably in poor taste. One case opened and closed and then another, and you'd fucked him in countless motel beds and against various walls before he mentioned it again. 
But there came a knock at your door one night, and you knew. 
“Spencer,” you said, smiling as innocently as you could, a little breathy from the quick sprint over to the front door of your apartment. 
“Hi.”
“Hello,” you said, eyes tracing down his body to the traces of fatigue scattered across his body. The shirt sleeves pushed haphazardly up to his elbows, the tie undone, the shirt crumpled. You grinned harder as you saw the bag in his hand. 
“I… I thought we could..”
You softly grabbed his tie and walked back into your apartment, pulling him along with you as he still struggled to find the right words. 
“You thought we could try something new?” You asked. He nodded.
“Is the something new in that bag?” You asked. He nodded again. 
“Is that something new going to make your big cock nice and hard for me?” You asked. He blushed a fierce red and nodded again, as you stepped forward and started stroking him over his pants. 
“You know I want to hear your voice, Spencer. You need to be a good boy or we can't play with your nice new toy.”
“Y-Yes.” He said, eyes already squeezing shut in pleasure as you pressed against him, free hand wrestling his bag from his grip. 
“On the bed. Shirt off, pants off. Leave your underwear on for now, and don't you dare start without me,” you ordered and he quickly ran to obey your orders. After all, he already knew what happened when he didn't listen nicely. 
"Oh, and Spencer?" You said as he paused in the doorway. "Keep the glasses on."
You grabbed the candle out of the bag, finding the box of matches you kept in your kitchen drawers, and stepped out of your own clothes before joining him, the red set you'd donned that day being more than sufficient for teasing him. 
“Look at you, so pathetic for me,” you giggled, as you climbed over him, straddling his thighs as you lit the candle, making sure to avoid his crotch, to avoid giving him any accidental pleasure. 
“Y/N,” he whimpered, hands strewn up above his head, tangling in the sheets. He was so very used to not being able to touch that you didn't even need to tie him up these days. 
As you ground down into his thighs, effectively riding him and pleasuring yourself, he moaned and shook beneath you, the pressure of restraining himself almost unbearable. Almost.
You knew his limits, and he knew his safe word. 
“I think it's ready, my sweet. Shall we sate your curiosity?”
“Yes, yes, please, Y/N,” he whined, as your hand finally found its way to his cock again. 
You held the candle just above his stomach and let a single drop flow out, landing on his abdomen. He twitched and arched his back up, thrusting his cock further into your hand. 
You did it again, and his moans were electric as you rubbed your pussy against him harder, needier than before. 
You covered his stomach and chest in the hot wax as he fucked your hand, your fingers pushing under his underwear to grip his cock, letting him hiss at the skin to skin contact with each spasm.
“Good boy,” you said, but your heart wasn't in it. You were too taken with him, his cute sharp face, his rounded glasses, his lips spread in a delicious moan. You were too desperate for him to truly tease him at that point. You needed your pleasure as well. 
Already soaked from his sounds and his strong thigh, you pushed your red panties to the side and dropped yourself down onto his cock. The only thing stabilizing you at that moment was the hand that had slipped to his neck, your other too busy making sure the candle was upright as you pushed up and down on him, desperate to not ruin your sheets with wax. 
They were already sure to be soaked through after this, but you'd washed cum out of them before. You weren't sure you'd be able to wash hard wax out. 
You took your pleasure in him as he continued to thrust up into you, like an animal in heat that is simply desperate for any release it can get. 
With the wax still hot, you pushed upright and let it drip on him again. 
“Fuck, Y/N…”
“How does it feel?” 
“H-hot. And good. Really good.” He winced, hands covering his face as he held back his orgasm, knowing you gave the orders.
You yourself felt hot. You felt good. And, most importantly, you felt curious. 
“S-Spencer,” you said, leaning down so your lips were practically kissing just below his ear. 
“I want you to burn me.” 
His eyes shot open, his hands racing to cup your ass cheeks as he stilled himself, forcing air in and out of his lungs. 
You put the candle on the nightstand and rolled onto your back, bringing him with you until your legs were wrapped around his waist and his head was pressed between your breasts, aa if startled by the movement and seeking comfort.  
His cock twitched inside you again and you were sure you were close. You just needed to feel him again. 
“Show me, Spencer. Show me what it was that made you so desperate to cum for me,” you whispered, pushing your hips up to meet his, urging him to move. 
Steadily, his hand reached out for the candle and he held it in his hands, moving back to a kneeling position as he got ready to use it. 
You sat yourself up on your elbows and watched as he pushed into you, one hand on your hip, and finally, agonizingly slowly, sent a single drip towards the tops of your breasts. 
“FUCK,” you screamed, grabbing his hand on your hip as you threw your head back onto the pillow. 
It was hot. It was so hot you thought for sure it'd burn right through you, but it felt good. 
You looked to the wax on your breast as he let another drip fall out and decorate the other. 
Your hips twitched, you pushed upwards and you came on his cock, whimpering and moaning just like he had done earlier.
“Good job… Good boy,” you panted as he let another drip go, never content to leave you with just a single orgasm if he himself hadn't cum yet. 
He thrust harder and harder as he put the candle down, pushing his nose into the crook of your neck and nuzzling in there. His glasses were an uncomfortable weight at your shoulder blade, but you welcomed the pain.
“Thank you,” he repeated, again and again, until you were certain it was the only thing he could remember, his hands tracing the bumps of wax over your body. 
You did the same, stroking his stomach as you grabbed his ass, pulling him closer to you. 
He came with a grunt, and you pushed him onto your back and rode out his orgasm as you chased your second, letting it crash through you moments later. 
Collapsing onto his chest, you let his hands wrap around you, pulling you in, ever as you were aware of the uncomfortable notches of hard wax decorating both of you. 
“Soy wax, right?” You asked, catching your breath. He nodded. 
“It washes off, right?” You asked. He nodded, blinking his eyes open again and staring at you quickly. 
He sealed your mouth against his ans held you tenderly there for a second before pulling you up into a sitting position, cock still warmed in your cunt. 
“We should go and find that out,” he said, shyly nodding towards your bathroom as you smiled and grinned straight back at him. 
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etherealstar-writes · 5 months ago
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I WANNA BE YOURS | WOSO X READER | PT 16
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pairings: woso x reader
summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.
part: sixteen
part one here
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
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felt lotte 😔
neev you went to a wsl match and to an arse-nal one of all ?! i thought you were a chelsea supporter y/n 😔 how could you do this to me bae
kyra who the hell would be sane enough to support chelshit?
elton PLS
willybum CHELSHIT HAHAHA
neev are we seeing this rn sam @ samtheskippa the disrespect
sam the skippa kyra lillee cooney-cross
kyra erm mum, save me @ stephy
stephy i ain't getting involved in this
kyra 😔
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meado oh my lord
tom holland's twin i have a concussion y/n ✌️ twinning
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ want me to come over and we can watch movies i'll bring ice-cream
tom holland's twin pls do 🙏
stairway why is lotte getting special treatment? i sprained my ankle the other day
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ sucks to be you
elton are you seriously still mad at us for accidentally giving you a concussion
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
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neev i'll make it up to you with nandos i'll pay 🙏
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ okay
willybum that's all it took for you to forgive her? nandos?
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ hey, nandos is fire 🔥 only ppl with taste can understand
mccard real
kyra real
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ and i can never stay mad at you guys for long
the REAL karate kid yayyy
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ but tillies are still my number one
willybum NOOO
kyra YESSS as you should 💪
the REAL karate kid okay but you support arsenal yeah? 🥺🙏
neev NAHH chelsea 🤍💙🥺🙏
brightness chelsea 🤍💙
flaming hot chelsea 🤍💙
sam the skippa aye up the blues 🤍💙
elton NAHH yanited 🔛🔝
earpsy yesss ❤️🖤
zelem ❤️🖤
turner ❤️🖤
hempo it's actually mancity thank you very much
lani ayeee
esme yess
chloe that's right
kyra nah y'all are absolutely delulu it's fairly obvious y/n should support ausenal we're superior 💪
wilybum you mean arsenal 🤨 ❤️🤍
kyra yeah that of course 😁 ❤️🤍
the REAL karate kid ❤️🤍
meado ❤️🤍
tom holland's twin ❤️🤍
mccard ❤️🤍
ford ❤️🤍
stephy ❤️🤍
stairway NAH WHAT THE FLIIP WE HAVE MOST OF THE ARSENAL TEAM HERE THIS IS UNFAIR
neev YEAH UNFAIR FR
cha cha i was gonna suggest spurs ....
willybum OH HELL NAH
the REAL karate kid NO
elton ABSOLUTY NOT
cha cha okay okay geez
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ i think i should remain unspoken about this topic before things get more out of hand ....
neev NAH this is an important life decision y/n
rusty metal wait y/n barca will welcome you with open arms
willybum THEY AREN'T A WSL TEAM LUCY
rusty metal i thought it was just clubs in general 😔
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ barca is lookin very convicing ngl and i most def support ausenal (and lotte) 🇦🇺✊
mccard technically i'm an honorary aussie so do i count in ausenal 👀
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ of course
neev i thought we had a connection y/n 😔
willybum why not lionessenal 😔
meado that is a terrible name
the REAL karate kid fr
willybum sue me for tryin why don't you think of something better then
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ nahh doesn't hit the same as ausenal
willybum i liked it better when you didnt know who we were and supported me 😔
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ that isn't very cash money of you willybum
ona you should come to barcelona y/n!
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ anything for you ona 🙏
stairway nahhh come support bayern in germany 💪
kie barca is superior actually
rusty metal that's right!
willybum they're overrated
kie you did not
ona added la reina
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ MOTHER ALEXIA EKBHFlkuweqBFQLUEB NO WAY OMG IVE PASSED AWAY
neev HELP the alexia putellas being added to this gc was NOT on my bingo card this year 😭
ona alexia, leah williamson just said barca is overrated
willybum deleted a chat
willybum i don't know what she's talking about alexia you're amazing
la reina thank you? your nickname is ... creative
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ alexia will you adopt me?
la reina what?
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ what? erm you are insanely peng oml
ona i thought i was peng 😔
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ YOU ARE
ona then you need another compliment for her
kyra alexia is very mother actually
cha cha she is fr
neev seconded
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ but steph is mother for me 🙏 alexia is literally la reina, my queen 😩
stephy what in the world are you guys talking about 😭
rusty metal wait what am i then?
neev grandma duh
rusty metal i shouldn't have asked 😭
ona grandma lucy hahaha
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ ona i'm packing my bags rn coming to barca right away for you
ona i shall be waiting
willybum i can't believe we're being forgotten about 😔
kyra no one cares lord farquaad
willybum you pest 😒
willybum changed kyra's name to pest
pest wow
willybum suits you very well
pest that's not gonna stop me from pestering you, willybum you do realise that
willybum steph control your child
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ but i never did anything 😔
willybum NOT YOU ALSO SINCE WHEN HUH? 😭
stephy do you have a problem with my children, williamson?
willybum erm no
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ mother, kyra is hogging your favourite son from your favourite daughter
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stephy kyra give calvin back to y/n
pest wow i'm the neglected middle child i guess 😒
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ L
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
not me finally posting another crappy chapter 🤭
next part here
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dcxdpdabbles · 11 months ago
Note
Cave boy Danny AU where he's half asleep and rambling as he mentions some people back home like his exes (especially Valerie), his English teacher, this stalker of his who he likes messing with, and the annoying fruitloop who's the bane of his existence! They're concerned. Only once he's fully awake when they ask for names.
Lancer is Alfred, Talia is Val, maybe Paulina is Julie Madison but idk, Wes is Edward/The riddler (I'm pretty sure there was a time he had a reddish orange hair. Either way, he was the same model as Danny so maybe Wes dyed his hair to not be confused with the Fentons in this AU), and Vlad is Ra's!
Hello! This actually falls out of my planned plotline for Cave Boy, but I will write something for you that is close to the prompt to make up for it! Hope that's okay and that you like it
Flash sends them a message sometime in the early afternoon before any of the Bats are ready to go out. In fact, Damian, Duke, Steph, and Jason are in class when his message arrives.
Bruce, Dick, Tim, Cass, and Barbara are at work. As the Flash is one of the few who knows what the Batfamily is doing during these hours, it is rare for him to bother at this hour. He would have usually waited until after five as that was when a majority of them became available.
They all quickly check their phones when they vibrate to ensure it's not a world-ending threat, just in case.
Since the messages would be sent to their civilian phones- anyone in the know of the Bat's real identity chooses to text in a very specific code. This way, no one would know what they were saying, and the Bats would realize they were speaking to who they thought they were.
Barry Allen chose Disney theme GIFs as his code.
A gif of Mulan singing Reflections lets them all know that somehow, the speedster has again opened a portal into a different dimension and/or mess with time.
"Why is my reflection someone I don't know?" meant "A double of one of you has crossed over from a different dimension and/or timeline"
This causes a brief ripple of anxiety. The last time someone had a double, it was Tim, and his future version of himself was crazy, evil, and surprisingly capable. It took Tim almost ending his life to beat the guy.
Thankfully, the second GIF comes through seconds later. This one is Mulan's Honor To Us All.
"Please bring honor to us all" meant "The double is friendly."
The last Gif was from Lion King, Timon cheerfully singing Hakuna Matata. "It means no worries for the rest of your days" meant "Sorry for the trouble."
Those in class return to their various lessons, but Tim quickly responds, "I love that movie! We should watch Mulan again the next time I see you, Uncle Barry!"
This means, "We will meet the double tonight."
The rest of the day drags on as they all slowly start to make bets on who the double would be for. They all agree that Cass is long overdue to face herself again. Still, Dick makes the complying argument that Duke needed to have his first "My counterpart from another dimensional/ Timal plane" moment.
They all actively hope Duke can clear another block on his Bat-bingo card. He gets two more and a complimentary tray of any of his favorite Alfred's desserts.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
That night, they all meet up in the watch tower, each clutching their bingo card just in case. (The game resets every month, and so far, Jason has written down the most accurate predictions. He needed two more squares for a cooking lesson of his favorite meal, and he was out for blood)
They all silently go to the conference room, where Barry entertains the guests. Apparently, they were trying to find discrepancies in their world's history and the double's life to help find which world they came from and send them back.
They were being shown the main rouges to test the timeframe.
"Is that Wes!?" A young male teenager yells. Sadly, Steph swears, staring at her "A new Batgirl from a different world" box.
"We call him Edward when he's not in his costume. Otherwise, his name is the Riddler." Barry answers, amusement clear in his voice.
"Riddler? How is Riddler menacing? What does he tell you, riddles of death or something?"
"You be surprised......."
Bruce gets to the door, pushing it open with a quick flick of the wrist, and inside is Barry sitting at the conference table next to a boy with dark hair and blue eyes. In front of them is a hologram showcasing the Gotham Rouge files.
There are papers and pencils scattered on the table. Likely, they have been writing down notes of the differences they have spotted.
Barry's eyes flicker to them, but the boy is too distracted to count on his fingers.
"Okay, so Wes is Riddler, Val is Talia, Fruitloop is Ra's, Sckuller is Bane, and ugh....for some reason, Spectra is Harley Quinn." The boy finishes checking his notes.
"For some reason? I thought you said Spectra studied psychology too."
"yeah, but Harley Quinn actually got a Ph.D. What did Spectra do? Land a school counselor position? Please." The boy rolls his eyes dismissively, and Barry frowns.
He's never taken kindly to people disregarding another person's profession, especially if it was connected to the educational system in some way.
"Hey now, that's an important job, and you need years of study before you can be a school counselor-"
"I bet Spectra peaked in high school. That's why she's like that." The boy cut him off, nodding as though he had found the universe's answer.
Well.....this was either a version of Jason, Tim, or maybe early Dick, that was a little too sassy but not angry? It's not sad either; it's more like, fed up? Or teenage tired.
"Oh, who are they?" The boy asks, and Barry zips right next to Batman.
"Danny, meet Batman...the you of this world. And his kids."
Danny squints. "Who is your mom, and how easy am I? Because there is a lot of you that I fathered for me to not be easy."
Jason burst out laughing, checking a box. "Yes, someone calling Bruce easy in costume. That's on bingo for me!"
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lxclerc · 1 year ago
Text
𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 — 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔
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summary... wherein old photos of you and charles resurface and goes viral, forcing you and the man whose heart you broke to cross paths once again request… no faceclaim... christina nadin pairing… charles leclerc x reader warning… none so far
note... this is going to be part of a series that includes both one shots and smau but can be read as a stand alone
series masterlist main masterlist
current part (part one) → part two
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charleslec
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liked by username and others
charleslec fans found an old instagram account allegedly belonging to charles from (what we believe to be) ages 12 - 20. the account is filled of personal pictures consisting of his supposed ex girlfriend, y/n y/l/n with sweet captions. y/n is a well known motorsport podcaster from monaco.
view all comments…
username EXCUSE ME?
username this was not in my 2023 bingo card 😭
username you mean to tell me my girl yn dated shARL
username the way that this is probably why she’s had practically the entire grid as guests in her podcast apart from charles
username this is such an invasion of their privacy though like clearly they both didnt want this to be dug up
⤷ username i mean if they didn’t want anyone to see, they should have deleted the account or at the very least put it on private
username okay but these pictures are so 🥹
username i always thought it was weird the way charles and yn never interacted despite both being from monaco and involved the racing world
charles_lec7
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liked by lorenzotl and others
charles_lec7 Joyeux anniversaire, mon amour. il y a 16 ans, tu es venu au monde et c'est la meilleure chose qui me soit arrivée. je suis toujours là pour t'écouter parler de n'importe quoi pendant des heures en attendant le coucher du soleil, malgré la plainte d'enzo qui ne veut pas nous conduire 🤣🤣
(happy birthday, my love. 16 years ago, you came into this world and it was the best thing that ever happened to me. i’m always here to listen to you talk about whatever for hours while waiting for sunset despite enzo’s complaint against driving us.)
view all messages… July 7, 2013
yourusername Merci beaucoup, mon ange. Je suis tellement reconnaissante d'avoir passé un autre anniversaire avec toi. Je t'aime plus que les mots ❤️❤️ (thank you so much, my angel. i am so grateful to have spent another birthday with you. i love you more than words.)
⤷ charles_lec7 J'ai hâte de vous souhaiter un joyeux anniversaire 70 fois de plus. (looking forward to greeting you happy birthday 70 more times.)
⤷ username he was going to greet her 70 more happy birthdays because he thought they’d spend the rest of their life together 😭😭
⤷ username i only learned about them today but i am a child of divorce and they are my parents
jules_bianchi Joyeux anniversaire, yn!! Je suis toujours là pour veiller sur toi et Charles quand vous avez besoin de moi. (happy birthday, yn!! i’m always here looking out for you and charles whenever you need me.)
⤷ yourusername merci, jules ❤️ nous t'encourageons toujours (thank you, jules. we’re always rooting for you.)
⤷ username oh my god 🥲🥲🥲
username i ran as fast as i could as soon as i saw the posts and oh my god it’s true 😭
username they’ve 😭😭 been 😭 together 😭😭 since 😭😭 they 😭😭 were 16 😭😭
⤷ username if you scroll even further down, he first greeted her on her 13th birthday where he called her the prettiest girl 🥲
⤷ username i’m about to stab myself
username y’all ever thought that the reason why he probably wanted number 7 is because her birthday is july 7 which is 7/7
⤷ username STOP IT RN
⤷ username his username has 7 in it bc it’s her birthday 🥲
⤷ username someone fucking sedate me
charles_lec7
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liked by arthur_leclerc and others
charles_lec7 entrer en 2016 avec la même fille qu'en 2010. mon amour, je te tiendrai la main pour toujours ❤️❤️ (entering 2017 with the same girl from 2010. my love, i’ll hold your hand forever.)
view all comments… January 1, 2016
arthur_leclerc vous êtes tous les deux si ennuyeux 🙄🙄 (you’re both so annoying)
⤷ yourusername arrêtez d'être jaloux (stop being jealous)
lorenzotl Bonne année à vous deux! (happy new year to the both of you!)
⤷ yourusername je t'aime, enzo
yourusername Tu ne m'as pas demandé de sortir avec toi avant 2012 🤔🤔 (you didn’t ask me on a date till 2012 though)
⤷ charles_lec7 Je t'aime depuis bien plus longtemps que tu ne le penses (i love you far longer than you’ve known)
⤷ joris_trouche Malheureusement, je peux le confirmer en tant que personne qui a dû tout écouter. (unfortunately i can confirm this as someone who had to listen to everything)
⤷ yourusername ❤️❤️
yourusername and to many more years to come. Je t'aimerai pour le reste de ma vie (i’ll love you for the rest of my life)
⤷ charles_lec7 as long as i’m with you
username no because they legitimately seem so in love????? like from their words and not just the pictures
⤷ username there’s no way you’re going to tell me that a man who said “i’ve loved you far longer than you’ve known” and a girl who said “i’ll love you for the rest of my life” are no longer in love
username scrolling through this account is like watching their relationship unfold and mature before my eyes
username there’s no way you can tell me that two people so in love, looking forward to the future they plan to have together can just fall out of love and be complete strangers a few years later
⤷ username right!!!! because what do you mean love like this can exist and somehow just fade? what’s the point of love then??????
username the rest of us really be having an existential crisis because of a relationship that ended 6 years ago 😭
charles_lec7
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liked by yourusername and others
charles_lec7 10 years from now, i hope it’s still you by my side
view all comments… November 5, 2017
yourusername félicitations, f2 world champion 🎉🥳 (congratulations)
⤷ charles_lec7 Merci, mon amour, je t'aime tellement. (thank you, my love. i love you so much.)
⤷ yourusername 💕
⤷ username i think this is the end guys 😔
⤷ username her energy is so different here. she literally sounds more like a friend greeting a friend rather than a girlfriend of 6 years by this point
username how did we go from “looking forward to greet you 70 more times) bc they were so sure they’d grow old together to “10 years from now, i hope it’s still you by my side” where he sounds so uncertain if they’re in each other’s futures???????
⤷ username no fuck that because how the fuck did we go from “i love you more than words” and “i’ll love you for the rest of my life” to a “💕” without even an i love you too???????????
username this is his last post of her 🥲🥲🥲
⤷ username she doesn’t even follow this account anymore
⤷ username he abandoned this account after they broke up 😭😭
username no bc he’s f2 champion here and they were still together but he entered formula 1 single??? what the hell happened
yourusername
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liked by lissiemackintosh and others
yourusername in another life
view all comments…
lissiemackintosh gorgeous gorgeous girl
⤷ yourusername no you
madisonbeer 🔥🔥🔥
yourbestfriend un voyage dans le passé ? (a trip down memory lane?)
⤷ yourusername 😵😬
username no bc your love story had me tearing up and now i refresh my feed and see this?
username she wanted to remind charles what he lost 😭
username in another life!!! i would have been your girlllllll
username literally the one that got away
username i simply can’t accept that this is the end of their story like this can’t be it, right?
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taglist: @ncentic @coffeehurricanes @academia-girl00 @nhlfs @livinglifethroughfanfic @sage-butterflyy @chimchimjiminie16 @thatgirlmj @hiraethrhapsody 
2K notes · View notes
nickfowlerrr · 1 year ago
Text
i never thought you’d happen to me - 1
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part two / part three
pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. smut (part two), fluff, bit of angst. time travel via magic. dad!bucky and mom!reader. steve x nat. some morally dubious homemade porn viewing 💀 (part two). if i’m missing anything that should be tagged, please lmk!
words: just a bit over 6k.
notes: this idea came from a prompt post i saw not too long ago and coincidentally fell into some bingo spots for my @the-slumberparty bingo card.
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fair warning: this is so completely self indulgent and a little trope overload lol but i had such a good time working on it and it was fun to write so who really cares 😌 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. please let me know what you think! 🥰
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It’s another late Friday night as you and the team lounge around the common room, nearly empty takeout containers scattered around the table, glasses and bottles of your drinks much the same. There’s a movie no one is watching playing on the large screen as the current conversation around you continues.
You’re not sure how telling a story from your last mission with Bucky has turned into this once again, but here you are. Another cute remark from Sam about his expectancy to be in the wedding party earns him another glare from you.
“Hey, you side-eye now but in ten years you’ll look back and realize how right we all were,” he says, elbowing Bucky slightly. “Tinman by your side,” he adds with a grin - clearly amused with himself.
“That is not my future,” you say with a humorless chortle.
“I can show you your future,” Wanda speaks from her spot on the couch, everyone turning their heads at once to look at her. She’s been unusually quiet the past few minutes - not engaging much in the conversation as she observed it instead. She takes another sip of her wine as she meets your gaze, foot swinging lazily as she keeps one leg crossed over the other.
She tilts her head at you while you eye her with a raised brow, a look of incredulity on your face.
“What?” she questions, confused at not only yours, but everyone’s, lack of response.
“Come on,” you laugh lightly, brushing her off.
“I’m serious.”
“Wanda, I don’t need to see what my future looks like to know that Bucky will be playing no part in it.”
A round of scoffs, snickers and a groan erupt from around the living room as you roll your eyes. You catch Bucky, seated across from you, doing the same as you turn your face.
“You’re all very funny, and I’m glad you’re amused with yourselves, but I can’t sit here and listen to the same inane conversation over again, soooo,” you pause for a breath, “I’m going to bed,” you clap as you stand from your spot on the couch.
“Look, I don’t speak for everyone, but I am not joking in the slightest,” Kate laughs as she leans back into her seat. Aiming finger guns at you and Bucky, “You guys,” she says, “are endgame.”
“And you, my friend, are drunk.”
Another round of laughs before the previous chatter resumes among the group, a story of misadventure now being told from Parker’s perspective, and you can hear Stark’s interjections already.
You grab your empty glass and head to the kitchen, Wanda following shortly after you.
“You’re stubborn,” she says with no preamble.
You turn with a quirked brow, “Am I?”
“Very. So much so, I think I may need your permission.”
“Sorry...uhm, for?” you ask, clearly confused.
“I think you should see it.” Your face falls slack at her words as you turn back to finish washing out your glass.
“Wanda, -” you go to laugh again.
“No, actually,” she stops you, correcting herself, “you need to see it. You’re stunting yourself. You’re constantly getting in your own way. I think it’d be good for you, to see what you can have if you finally allow it to come to you.”
You're quieted by her sincerity for a moment, half because you weren’t taking any of the previous conversation seriously, and half because you didn’t think it was something she was actually capable of doing. In fact, you still didn’t. But if she wanted to try, who were you to argue.
“Uhhh,” you begin, shaking your head lightly, “I mean, if you really want to, then, go for it, I guess. You have my permission.”
“Good,” she smiles, turning to walk back out to the other’s.
“Wow, wait,” you stop her, “like, what exactly are you gonna do?”
“Just a swap,” she says simply. “A day in the life of your future self. You don’t have to do anything, just go to sleep tonight and you’ll see.”
Your eyes narrow in thought, “...This isn’t dangerous, right?”
“No, not at all. You guys will be fine. 24 hours and you’ll wake up in your own beds, safe and sound. I promise.”
She smiles and flits away quickly. You shake your head at yourself again, still unsure what exactly you’ve agreed to. And it isn’t until you’re walking down the hallway back to your room that what she said actually catches up to you.
You guys will be fine?
You stop walking when you hear footsteps behind you, glancing back to find Bucky coming down the hall. You swallow hard and turn back around, not far from your door.
“Stalker much?” you say without facing him, earning a scoff in return.
He’s barely a step behind you now, though his sudden proximity is not all that surprising. You’ve grown used to his stealth.
“In your dreams.”
“More like waking nightmares. Every time I turn around it’s like you’re always just right there.”
“Maybe if you didn’t put yourself into jeopardy every five minutes I wouldn’t have to shadow you so often.”
You’re walking side by side and you get to your door as he speaks. You turn on him, instantly irritated.
“Are you being serious?” you level at him. He doesn’t respond. “How are you still hung up on Belarus? It was one mission. That was not on me, I didn’t fuck up. No one else saw them coming, either,”
“I did.”
“Well, sorry I’m not as infallible as the one and only Bucky Barnes,” you speak exaggeratedly, annoyance clear in your tone. “You still act like I’m some kind of liability. I’ve been careful. I’m riding a lengthy no injury streak and we’ve still yet to fail a single mission. After how many assignments we’ve been on together, you think you’d start taking me more seriously.”
“I never said I didn’t take you seriously. Just think sometimes you’re still a little too cocky for your own good.”
“For the thousandth time, I’m not clueless, Barnes. I don’t need you monitoring my every move. Not during training, not on missions, and definitely not walking down a hallway at night. I think I can handle getting to my room alone. Or is assuming that too cocky of me?” you ask with a tilt of your head, sarcasm dripping off your tongue.
You don’t wait for a response before you turn to your door and let yourself in, snapping it shut behind you.
You flick on the light and are quickly greeted by a room that is… definitely not yours. You pause for a second, taking in your surroundings before you deflate with a sigh, following it up with a deep breath. You turn the light back off and then turn back around to the door. You wait for a second longer with your hand on the handle before you force yourself to exit the room.
Just like you knew he would be, Bucky is still standing right where you left him; a stupid smirk on his stupidly handsome face.
“Wrong room,” he says.
“Fuck off,” you grumble as you walk a little further down the hall, to your actual door.
“Goodnight to you, too,” Bucky says as he continues to his own room, not far from you. You send him a glare and a “hmph” before shutting your door and getting ready for bed.
You’re not helpless. You’re not clueless. You’re damn good at what you do. But fuck if Bucky doesn’t have a knack for knocking you off kilter with a single look.
—-
It’s a soft shaking that wakes you from your peaceful sleep. You’re so comfortable, you don’t want to move - you don’t even want to blink open your eyes. But the shaking comes again. Your brows furrow as your arms tighten around your pillow and you cuddle further into it.
Only it’s not your pillow.
It takes a second for you to process that instead, it’s a warm body you’re pressing yourself against before your eyes snap open.
You look up and find a confused Bucky staring down at you.
When your eyes meet, though, there’s a bit of softness there. And as you take in his face, you relax a bit again. His presence beside you is at once comforting as it is confounding.
“What are you doing?” you both ask at the same time - only furthering your confusion.
You suddenly realize you’re still wrapped around him and quickly sit up and give him space.
“Why are you in my bed?” you ask as you rub your eyes with the palms of your hands.
“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” he says as he looks around, “but I don’t think we’re at the tower.”
You look up and blink away the fuzziness. Then it hits you.
“Oh shit,” you murmur.
“What? You know where we are?” he asks as he stands and starts looking around, inspecting the room. “Better yet, how the hell we got here?”
“Maybe…Would you believe me if I said we might possibly be in the future?”
Bucky turns and looks at you incredulously.
“Wanda,” you speak at the same time.
“For fuck’s sake,” he says as he runs a hand over his face.
“In my defense,” you begin, “when I agreed to this, I didn’t think she’d be able to do it. I also didn’t think it’d involve anyone else..”
“What do you mean you agreed to this? What is this?”
“She said I needed to see the future. It’d be good for me, or whatever, so I said okay. She said it was uh, a future swap? 24 hours. Day in the life and then I’d wake up back in my own bed the next day.”
“And you agreed to it?”
“Fuckin’, yeah, obviously,” you huff. “I didn’t think it’d be.. Real? I don’t know.”
“So, so what? We’re stuck in some unknown future for the next 24 hours?”
“What part of ‘I don’t know’ do you not understand?”
“Why would you agree to something like this without fully knowing what it is you’re agreeing to? This is exactly what I’m talking about when I say-”
“Spare me, Barnes. It’s Wanda, okay? We’re fine. It’s 24 hours, and I’m assuming that clock started when we fell asleep last night, so really it’s only…,” your voice dies down as you look to the clock on the bedside table. The time isn’t what catches your eye, though.
No.
It’s the framed photo behind it that derails your train of thought.
“No fucking way,” you breathe as you grab it in disbelief.
You stare at the photo of you and Bucky, a close up of you in a sweet embrace, adorning soft smiles as you share a chaste kiss, your left hand touching his cheek, and what you can only assume is a wedding ring sitting pretty on your finger.
This has to be some kind of dream. That’s it. You’re dreaming. Duh. Your hand moves before your mind does and you slap yourself in your face as hard as you can manage, sure it’ll wake you up and you’ll be back in the tower, in your own bed, alone.
“What the fuck?!” Bucky exclaims in surprise as you wince slightly and hold your cheek as it stings. He walks over to you, becoming more tentative as you look up at him.
“‘M not dreaming. Are you?”
“No, I’m wide awake, believe me,” he says as he gets closer. “Don’t slap me, either.”
You eye him harshly before handing him the frame.
“Well, it.. Explains why you’re here, at least,” you say, voice quieter than you intended as your thoughts were still reeling. “We’re not just in my future, we’re in-”
“Our future,” he finishes as he stares at the photo himself.
“Yeah.”
“So, our room…” he says more to himself than to you. He makes his way around the room, pulling open drawers and looking in the closet as you stand and head for the bathroom.
You meet yourself in the mirror, sure enough, you still look the same. You’re you.
Walking back out into the room, you head for the window, pulling back the curtain. As you peer out, you’re expecting to see a skyline, or city street, but instead you’re met with the view of an open yard.
You pull away from the window in surprise, “Are we in a house?”
You turn to Bucky, who turns to face you. You both head to the bedroom door, you following behind him as he takes the lead.
It’s a house. Definitely a house.
The bedroom door leads to a long hallway, three doors along the right back wall, another door at the far end opposite your own, and to the left of that, on the left wall, is another room.
In the middle of the hallway is an opening, and you and Bucky turn there without inspecting any of the other rooms.
You find yourselves in a living room, before walking into the kitchen.
“We should look around,” you say in a whisper - why, you aren’t sure.
“What exactly are you planning on finding?” he questions as you pull open a drawer, sifting around.
“I don’t know? More information. Like what we’re doing here. What we do. What year it is. Maybe we learn something and it’ll send us home sooner? I don’t know, just, something,” you answer, on edge already by being surrounded by the unknown and only growing more agitated at his every word.
“Why are you getting mad at me?”
“I’m not getting-,” you stop yourself, taking a breath, “sorry. Okay? I thought you were trying to be a dick,”
“Why do you assume I’m being a dick?” he asks, annoyed himself now.
"Because you always act like a fucking dick!", you nearly yell as you slam the kitchen drawer shut.
"Fucking dick!"
You both freeze at the high, sweet-sounding voice that comes from behind you. Your brows furrow as you glance at Bucky, his reaction to the mirthful echo much the same as yours, before you both slowly turn around.
The sight you're met with has you both frozen in shock.
A set of twin toddlers clad in matching pajamas, both of whom bear a striking resemblance to you and Bucky, are staring at you both.
You can't explain why, but your heart is gripped by the mere sight of them. It's something more than just their cuteness, it's something instinctual. How it's possible, you're not sure, but you know, somehow, that they're really yours. Future or not, those are absolutely your kids.
It seems with each passing moment, you and Bucky are left more and more stunned by how your future is turning out, but as you notice the little boy's eyes watering and the pout on his little lips as he looks right at you, you can't seem to care about anything else.
“Hey, buddy,” you squat down and hold your arms open for him, and he waddles to you right away as his eyes well more and more. He hugs you, still pouting as he cuddles into your chest and you hold him tightly as you stand, exchanging another glance with Bucky who looks nearly stupefied until the soft voice of the girl rings out once again.
Your eyes shoot to her as she twirls around clumsily, a chant of "fucking dick" leaving her lips over and over before she starts to tilt, seemingly having made herself dizzy. You're about to gasp, moving forward instinctually as you watch her wobble a bit more, but she's in Bucky's arms in an instant as he grabs her before she falls.
"Woah, there, sweetheart," he says with a small laugh as she dramatically goes limp in his arms. An exhausted breath leaves her little lungs as she breathes out the repetition one final time. She then lifts her tiny hand up to Bucky’s cheek, effectively slapping him as she plants it, blinking up at him. “What’s this?” she asks him curiously as she smooshes his face, feeling his stubble.
“Uhh…It’s hair. I haven’t shaved - Ow,” he exaggerates when she interrupts him and pats his cheek again, a bit harder this time, though you know it didn’t hurt him in the slightest. It makes the girl laugh, though.
“You should shave, Daddy,” she advises, pulling a face.
Her words pull a breathless laugh from him as he gazes down at the small girl, a lump forming in his throat as he takes everything in. He feels crazy, but he can see you in her, and he can see himself, too. Her and her brother, they both look like the perfect little combinations of the two of you. And they’re both so comfortable with you guys. So at ease and uninhibited, just like children should be..
It’s a stark contrast to how he grew up and he can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment, of pride, knowing that he isn’t repeating the cycle he swore would die with him.
He’d stopped letting his mind wander to what if futures long ago, but when he did imagine what it’d be like to have a family of his own, this is the kind of peace he longed for. The happy, settled down future he was sure he’d never have.
And you.
Your hand has been mindlessly rubbing the boy's back in an effort to comfort him as he cuddles into you, that never faltering pout pulling every string your heart has as Bucky attends to the girl relaxing in his arms.
"Linc's sad, Mommy," the girl says, pointing at her brother. The title has you swallowing hard, your heart clenching at how sweetly she calls to you.
Linc?... Must've been Bucky, you think briefly before you gently pull him away from you slightly so you can see him better, his bleary blue eyes peering up at you.
"Why are you yelling at Daddy?" he pouts still. Your brows furrow and mouth parts on an inhale, as if you're going to answer him, but nothing comes out as you try and think of what you can say. His innocent question stumping you.
"It's alright, pal, we were just kiddin' around," Bucky offers as he gets closer to you both. You look at him, a bit guilty but thankful for the save.
"Can we have pancakes, Daddy?" the girl asks as she wriggles around like a worm in his hold.
"Pancakes! Please!" Linc smiles as he continues hanging onto you, seemingly happy with Bucky's defense of you - any qualms he had long forgotten as he’s now focused on the mention of pancakes for breakfast.
"Sure," you answer for him, acquiescing easily with a smile before looking to Bucky with wide eyes.
You’re not entirely sure how exactly this all happens, but somehow you end up married with two kids. As shocking as it is, and as confused as you are about how, a part of you is grateful - maybe even happy - that Bucky is here. He may be an ass a lot of the time, overbearing and micromanaging your every move, but you guys have been through hell and back together. Partners from the very start of your time as an Avenger. If you’re being honest, this future makes more sense than you previously wanted to admit.
In an attempt to not freak out the twins, you know you have to play the part. Act like nothing is out of the ordinary and that you are indeed their mom. You are, technically, but you don’t have any idea what the hell you’re doing or what’s wholly needed of you. You’ve nannyed before, though. You know the basics..
"Have we brushed our teeth yet?" you ask the twins, sure the answer is a "no". Your and Bucky's arguing clearly is what woke them up, the yelling must have led them out here from their room.. Rooms?
"Mhm," the girl hums, though just from looking at her, the lie is evident as she avoids looking directly at you.
"Don't lie, Ellie," her brother chastises.
Ellie.. That must've been me, you think with a twitch of a smile before you set Linc down.
"Alright, go with Buc- your dad, and I'll start on the pancakes," you instruct before the twins burst out in giggles. You frown, brows furrowing as you watch them, hoping they'll let you know what exactly is so funny.
"No, we want daddy's pancakes, Mommy!"
"With chocolate chips and syrup!"
"Yeah, they want Daddy's pancakes, Mommy," Bucky taunts with a smirk as you shoot him an annoyed look. He seems a lot more comfortable now than he was a few minutes ago, and you can’t help but notice how easily he seems to be taking this; easing into his role in this place and time. He’s good.
"What's wrong with my pancakes?" you press the toddlers.
"Daddy's are better, but it's okay, your grilled cheese is the best,"
"Yeah! Oh, can we have grilled cheese for lunch, Mommy? Please, please, pleeease," Ellie begs cutely, leaning to you while still in Bucky's hold.
You huff a laugh, agreeing as Bucky sets Ellie down to follow you.
"See if you can find anything," you tell him as you meet his eye before following after the tikes pulling on your hands.
"Don't forget the chocolate, Daddy!"
Bucky watches as you're led to the bathroom before he starts moving around the kitchen. He's about to start looking around for more information on when exactly you are, and the kind of life you’re living, but thinks better of it for now. He'd rather not have two toddlers throw a fit over unfinished pancakes on top of everything else he's trying to wrap his head around at the moment.
He finds the pantry and grabs all the ingredients he needs for his mom's pancake recipe - the one he knows by heart- and gets to work on the batter. The chatter from the kids and you in the bathroom floats into the kitchen and he can’t help but smile at the sound of your voice as you talk to them.
He soon loses himself in the simplicity of the task at hand, and how nice it is to be here like this. He's in pajamas on a Saturday morning, making breakfast for his family as they start their day..
Seems entirely unreal, but a dream nonetheless. And as if that wasn’t enough to have his thoughts in a flurry, he still can't shake the feeling of how nice it was waking up with your soft body pressed against his. Opening his eyes to discover the warmth beside him was you. He was confused at first, wondering when and how you’d gotten into his room, but more so concerned about the why. He watched you for a minute before he noticed the bedding draped over the both of you. It wasn’t his and when he looked around the room, he realized he had no idea where you guys were. You were wrapped around him as you laid together in the comfy king bed, and it took him a second to try to wake you up. He knew he had to, of course, but if he was honest, he didn’t want the feeling to end. Your hold on him was comforting and he was completely at ease in your embrace, circumstances be damned. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in ages.
Though, that wasn’t entirely true. He remembers the last time he felt that way, and of course it was with you. You were stuck in a shoddy motel off the highway during a storm, the crappy jeep you’d been traveling in finally gave out half way through your drive back to the compound and you guys had no choice but to crash for the night. Of course the motel only had one singular room available with one singular bed. After some back and forth, you both decided you’d just share. It was big enough for the two of you, with space in between. When Bucky woke up that next morning, though, he found himself holding you tightly from behind, your arms wrapped over his as you slept peacefully in his embrace. He remembers the heat that crept up his neck and the flurry in his stomach that he still refuses to acknowledge as butterflies. He quickly loosened his hold and slipped away from you before you could even bat an eye. You were still none the wiser. He thought about that morning a lot after it happened.
He wondered what would’ve happened if you had woken up, too. What you would’ve said, what he could’ve said to you if he’d finally gotten out of his own way..
He can’t dwell on it anymore, though. He hasn’t. He won’t.
Except maybe he does.
And seeing as this is your future together, he thinks maybe that’s not as hopelessly embarrassing as he’s made himself believe it is.
And god, the sight of those kids. The warmth that bloomed in his chest as he took in their faces, he honestly was worried he would start crying if he stared too long. He had long given up on the idea of starting a family, he didn't think this life would ever be in the cards for him, and especially not with you.
But as he stood pouring chocolate chip pancake batter into a sizzling pan, he was struck by how right it felt.
Obviously, it wasn't right, neither of you should be here right now, and it made him wonder where exactly the future you and him were.
As soon as the thought went through his head, a tablet he hadn’t taken notice of on the back counter dinged.
He flipped the pancakes before he went to get the pad, taking the tablet in his hands. His face unlocked the device easily and opened up to his email account.
He clicked on the new, unread message from.. you?
—-
Hey Bucky.
Wanda says this is unnecessary but if I know me, I’m still probably freaking out internally. So, just letting you know that everything's fine. Or so she says.
We're gonna be back to our respective places in time come tomorrow.
I know waking up in the future - especially our future - may be hard to wrap your heads around, but it’s a hell of a lot better than waking up alone to a preening Wanda staring at you, trust me.
And you guys aren’t as oblivious as you try to be. You know, deep down, exactly why you’re there. Together. - and why it isn’t all that crazy.
And this goes without saying, but obviously, take care of the kids. Eleanor and Lincoln. If you haven’t found them yet, they’ll find you, I’m sure.
Today at 2pm, you need to drop them off at 7314 Wisteria Drive. That's Steve and Nat's house - so don't make it weird. They're keeping the kids so we can celebrate our anniversary.
Funny how that lines up..
So, anyway, apparently all we need to do on both ends is enjoy the 24 hour downtime. We’ll be waking up in our own beds before we know it.
Okay.
Bye.
(I’d say I love you but I don’t wanna freak you out. x)
Bucky just stares down at the email blankly while his brain tries to catch up. He's gonna have to have you read it yourself. Before he can fixate on that last line in particular, he can smell the browning of the pancakes.
His attention quickly returns to the food as he starts to plate it, shutting off the burner. The kiddie plates he finds in a cabinet earn a half smile from him as he cuts up the pancakes for the kids and spots their booster seats, placing the plates before them.
He hears them before he sees them as they come down the hallway, all laughs.
You appear just after they do, a look on your face he can't turn away from. Your soft smile and the adoration swimming in your eyes as you watch your kids, both of them waiting to be lifted up to sit down, is.. beautiful.
He catches himself staring before he turns his focus back to the table, lifting Eleanor into her seat before lifting Lincoln in his, earning a "thank you, daddy," from each of them in return, a wave of astonishment and pride coming over him yet again. He’s not sure if he’ll ever get used to that.
You listen as they talk back and forth about their pancakes and their laughter when they start playing with one another as they eat their lightly syruped bites.
You stand by Bucky, absentmindedly grabbing a pancake and biting into it, stopping almost immediately as the fluffiness catches you off guard. God, they were so right. These are amazing.
"Good, right?" Bucky's voice pulls you back as you swallow your bite.
You lick your lip before looking over at him. "Did you find anything?"
He hands you the tablet and watches as you read the email.
You click your tongue, and then stay silent for a minute.
He almost can’t believe it when you do it, looking at you incredulously once again after you suddenly slap yourself in the face once more.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he bites quietly, moving to stand in front of you and blocking your view of the kids momentarily.
"Just had to make sure," you reply, again cringing at the stinging of your cheek. You eye him before making a move to slap him, too, but he grabs your hand before you can make contact. He looks at you like you're insane as you huff again. "So this is..."
"This is real," he finishes for you. "That hard to believe, huh?"
"That's an understatement. So, I’m not dreaming. But are you sure you’re not dreaming?"
“You think my dreams involve waking up in the future with no memory of what’s gone on between me going to sleep to waking up? That’s a literal nightmare for me. Plus, I learned a while ago how to differentiate between my dreams and reality. Trust me, we’re not dreaming.”
You swallow thickly, an apology on the tip of your tongue. You hadn’t considered that before. Before you can voice your thoughts, though, you're distracted by the interaction between the kids at the table.
"Linc, I'll give you a piece and then you give me one of your piece, okay?"
"You take this one," Linc says as he gives his sister a piece off of his plate and she gives him a piece off of her's.
You can't help but chuckle at the exchange.
"We make cute kids, though," Bucky says, almost under his breath. But you still hear him, and you respond before your brain catches your tongue.
"Yeah, we do."
You push off the counter as Bucky watches you, surprised that you heard him and even more so by your agreement, though it'd be impossible for anyone to argue that your kids aren’t, in fact, ridiculously adorable.
"Do you guys want -"
"Orange juice, please!" Ellie answers before you even finish asking.
"And water, please," Linc follows.
"OJ and water, you got it."
----
You and Bucky get the kids ready to go to Steve and Nat's with minimal arguing... until you had to pack their bags.
What they should or shouldn't take with them was a point of contention as you ridiculed each other's choices. After your bickering and some input from Ellie and Linc, you guys just hoped they had everything they needed. You'd unnecessarily packed them three outfits each just in case of spills or messes and their diaper bag was loaded full, too. Maybe too much for one day, but better safe than sorry, right?
After loading the twins in the car, Bucky followed the GPS to the address you'd left in the email.
When you guys pulled up to the house, you were greeted by Natasha who was unloading groceries from her car. The domestic scene warmed your heart. She deserved the simplicity, the normalcy, and you were happy to know that one day, she’d have it.
She lit up as she saw you guys approaching and came right over, going straight for the back door.
Linc and Ellie were all smiles and giggles as they tried fruitlessly to escape their car seats in favor of being in Nat's arms.
"Bugs!!" Nat greeted them with an enthusiastic smile as she started working on their belts. "I've missed you guys so much! How long has it been? Ten years?"
They laughed in unison at her before Ellie corrected her. "Yesterday, Aunt Nattie!"
"Yesterday?" she questioned in faux disbelief.
She wasn't able to keep up the play, though as the second they were out of their seats, they nearly tackled her.
You watched Steve come outside, coming up to the car with a grin, a girl no more than ten and another toddler, maybe a little older than the twins, in tow.
"Get them inside for me, honey," Nat said to the oldest one. She looked nothing like either of them, dark hair and dark eyes, but still it was clear she was their daughter. The younger one looked like Steve, though, and you wonder briefly if that was just by chance or if they’d had a surrogate. Natasha had talked about the possibility before, and of adopting, but starting a family wasn’t something any of you were actually considering at the time, settling down and having kids wasn't really your focus when you were all trying to make sure the world wouldn’t be ending tomorrow. "We'll be right in. And pick a movie for the sleepover before your Dad does," she pretended to whisper, earning a laugh from the girl as she corralled the kids up the porch.
Nat turned her gaze back on you and Bucky, her stare nothing less than scrutinizing.
"Are you guys in pajamas?" she asked with a raised brow.
"Mh, uh, yeah," you laughed a little breathlessly before looking back at the house, distracted. "They didn't even say bye," you said in your disappointment. You'd only just met the kids, but you felt so instantly connected to them.
"Don't worry about them, they're gonna have fun tonight. And so are you two," she says pointedly, if not a bit suggestively, pulling you from your thoughts. You feel the heat that creeps up your skin and refuse to look at Bucky.
"What are you guys doin' tonight, did you decide?" Steve asks.
"Staying in," Bucky blurts out as you blink and smile. But their faces at that, their smirks of acknowledgement make you grow hotter as you try to not let your embarrassment show.
"Mhm," you hum tight lipped.
It's quiet for a moment as you all watch one another before Steve breaks the silence.
"You guys are acting weird."
"Are we?" you question back too quickly.
"Yeah. You are," Nat says.
"Sugar," Bucky blurts out again. "They're loaded up on sugar. Sorry, they really wanted pancakes this morning. But uh, look, thanks for watching them. We should uh, get going, so.."
"Yeah, we should go," you agree. "What time do you want us to pick them up?"
"We're dropping them off tomorrow afternoon, right?" Steve questioned. "Or did you not want them to go with us?"
"No, oh, right. Duh! I just forgot - that's what we talked about. Because you're taking them to.." you trail off, prompting them.
"The gardens?" Nat finishes.
"Right, yes, the gardens. Which is great. And we appreciate it so much. And if you need anything or anything happens, ya know just call us," you continue on as Bucky starts to pull away. You fight the urge you have to glare at him until you finish your awkward goodbye and Steve and Nat watch you both drive off, clearly confused about the weird interaction.
"Did you miss the part of the email where it explicitly said: don't make it weird?" Bucky asks.
"Fuck off, you were no better," you scowl as you slump in the seat. "What now?"
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whxtedreams · 9 months ago
Text
Cookies as Payment
A Poets Love
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Inspired by rupi kaur poem:
i'd be lying if i said  you make me speechless the truth is you make my tongue so weak it forgets  what language to speak in  - by rupi kaur (milk and honey - page 61)
Word Count: 1.5k
Pairing: neighbour!joel x reader
Tags: no outbreak, fluff, baking, kissing, first kiss (with Joel), just wanna rip my heart out kind of fluff.
Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist
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You didn’t expect it. Truth be told, you’re positive he didn’t plan it either. There’s so much you didn’t expect to happen between you and your neighbour, and knowing how soft his lips are was definitely not on your bingo card.   
The house smells divine, a tantalising blend of vanilla and chocolate filling the air, the sweet scent mixing with the smooth jazz playing from the record player. The atmosphere is cosy and welcoming, blending all the perfect ingredients for an afternoon with Joel as he works outside on another one of your projects.
He walks through the kitchen door, his nose leading him to you while you pull the slightly browned cookies from the oven. Your back is to him as you place the tray on the counter to continue cooking as they cool.
“They smell amazing.” Joel hums as he reaches over you for one. 
“They’re not ready yet, they’re still cooking as they cool.” You swat his hand away with the oven mitt, scolding him for almost touching them.
“But they smell too good.” 
You softly shove him as his hand reaches for the cookies again. You turn to face him then, arms crossed over your chest as you lean against the counter. His wired headphones dangle over his shoulders, blending into his plain white tee, his jacket discarded in the early afternoon from the Texas heat.
“I could smell ‘em from all the way outside, got me droolin’ out there.” He huffs a soft laugh as he brings his hands up in false defence, moving back from the cookies. “I’ve been tellin’ ya to start sellin’ them, make a fortune.” He points at you then before pushing himself to sit on the unused side of the counter. 
You open your mouth to say something but shrug instead, your hands focusing on the small fabric strands at your sleeves. He’s mentioned this a few times, every time he tries something you cook he ends up showering you with compliments. It’s sweet, how much he likes your baking and cooking and you have considered selling what you make but the idea terrifies you. Having someone pay for what you make, you’d rather just gift them to friends and family.
The first time you cooked for him, he almost begged you to help him cook for Sarah’s birthday the following week. You didn’t believe him when he told you he was a terrible cook. He ended up cooking for you that night to prove you wrong and after he made you spaghetti, you thought it would be better if he just stuck to prepping while you did the rest of the work for Sarah’s birthday dinner. You didn’t think someone could mess up spaghetti that badly, you were proven very wrong.
It’s been a few months since you moved in next door to Joel and it took him no longer than a week to start offering help in renovating. Took two weeks before he started coming over without the excuse of helping out and just wanting to hang out. 
It’s been nice, the constant company that doesn’t feel like you’re suffocating your own social battery. It’s the easy, effortless conversations that instead fill your social battery instead of draining it like others tend to do. There have been nights where nothing is said for hours, each just bathing in each other's company as you each do your own little hobbies, not demanding attention. 
There’s been times where you’re so stuck in your book you forget Joel is sitting across the room, tools in his hands as he carves away at another design. It’s not until he walks over to show you that you get the fright of your life, forgetting that you’re not alone.  
You fall into another easy conversation as Joel impatiently waits for the cookies to be ready. He updates you on the bench he’s building for your patio, and you get lost in how passionate he becomes when he talks about his job. His hands start moving the more he talks, the corner of his mouth twitching as he explains how he overcame something when it wasn’t quite working the way he wanted it to. 
You could listen to him for hours. You have listened to him for hours. 
You offered to pay him of course, but he said a batch of cookies was more than enough payment.
You make him coffee as he talks, already knowing how he likes it due to the amount of times he’s ended up over at your house in the mornings while his daughter Sarah had a house full of teenage girls over. He’d stumble over half awake and plant his face on the counter as he waits for the coffee to brew, his hair a mess and clothes crumbled. Hard to sleep when they stay up all night fuckin’ laughin and playing games. As much as he complains about it, you know he loves that his daughter ended up with a nice group of friends, even if they keep him up all night. 
You pour his coffee and he takes it as he mentions he’s almost finished outside. He’s rambling now and you’re half listening as you place a few cookies on a plate. His eyes light up and he shuts up as you turn back around with the cookies. This time you don’t swat his hand away as he takes one. 
His eyes close as he takes a bite and you smile, knowing that you made him happy. “So fuckin good.” he mumbles with a mouth full. 
You’re standing in front of him when he opens his eyes, and you can’t seem to read his face as you smile up at him. His eyes seep into you and it lingers on your skin as his eyes flicker down to your lips. The room goes quiet besides the music in the background. 
And then he puts his coffee down along with the cookie, his hands reaching for the sleeves of your dress. Your heart is in your throat by the time he pulls you between his thighs, one hand on your wrist while the other rests at the back of your neck. 
Your smile is gone, eyes wide as his own burn into yours. Then his hand on your neck ever so slowly pulls you in, giving you time to move away. You don’t. 
The first press of his lips on yours steals the air from your lungs and leaves you completely breathless, completely entranced by the sensation of his touch. Your muscles loosen, your mind clears, and any sense of tension in your body disappears. You feel like putty in his hands, every ounce of your trust and affection poured into this single moment. He could do anything he wishes, and you would simply allow it. 
His lips are soft and comforting, the stubble a welcomed contrast as they move over yours again and again. There's a sweet and sensual feeling in the air, the connection between you both being amplified with every kiss.     
His hand trails up the back of your neck and into your hair, his fingers lacing themselves through the strands and pulling a deep sigh from you. The tender, intimate touch is causing you to melt, your body and mind slowly responding to his touch. The feel of his hand in your hair is both soothing and stimulating, drawing out a shiver from you.
He pulls away all too soon, leaving you wanting more. He holds you close, his warm breath fanning over your face as he looks into your eyes. You can see the smile slowly settling on his face as he sees your gaze, the longer he looks down at you the more his smile seems to grow. 
“I think you taste better.” He confesses in a whisper, his hand leaves your wrist and settles at the small of your back. 
You try to speak, but the words keep failing to escape your lips. You want to say so much, but there are so many thoughts and feelings racing through your mind that you can't translate them into words. It makes your tongue tired as it struggles to say how you feel, as if your feelings have completely filled your brain and left it with nothing left to speak.
At your lack of response, Joel's smile widens and his lips move down to kiss you once again, this time with even more tenderness and affection. The touch of his lips on yours is soft and gentle, sending an intoxicating sense of joy and comfort that sweeps through you. As his lips move over yours, brushing over them in a sweet and sensual way, you can feel yourself falling further into his arms.
And you think that maybe, you like the taste of your cookies better on his lips as he kisses you. The lingering flavours of vanilla and chocolate seem to blend perfectly with his mouth, as if designed to perfectly complement each other.
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Notes
little thank you to @janaispunk for tagging me in the pinterest moodboard game and therefore making me sit on pinterest for an hour looking at cookies to bake and then write this. Thinking of making this a small series. Just small scenes losely based around rupi kaur poety as I read through their books.
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sluts4matt · 7 months ago
Note
Hey could you write something about you being the new neighbor bc you’re doing au pair and Chris comes to talk to you and it leads you going to his house one day and you guys fuck? Thanks
HELLO NEIGHBOR
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pairing: rough!dom chris x latina!reader
summary: meeting a cute boy with brown hair and blue eyes when you moved to LA wasn't a part of your bingo card. you had absolutely no regrets though, especially when your new friendship takes a turn.
warnings: SMUT, oral (male and female receiving), teasing, pet names (use of ma and princess), dry humping, fingering, dumbification, choking, and degrading, praising if you squint, p in v (wrap it up ladies and gents), overstimulation, dacryphilia
word count: 3172
authors note: i strayed off the path a little bit, but i tried to keep the main point
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music blared from your earbuds as you went to the moving truck to redeem more of your items from it. you almost didn't notice the attractive male that walked up behind you.
the boy tapped you shoulder, startling you. you turned around and was meant with a sheepish smile as you pulled an ear bud from your ear. "hello?" you smiled in confusion.
"sorry for scaring you," he laughed. you couldn't help the immediate swarm of butterflies in your stomach.
"it's okay," you smile, "can i help you?"
"i was just wondering if i could help you with your things." he said, his hand reaching up to scratch the back of his head.
"oh," you squeak, a nervous smile grazing your lips. "um, yeah, sure," you said as you turned back to the truck. the boy followed.
"i'm chris, by the way," he smiled, looking down at the ground as he walked. "oh, i'm y/n," you say, earning a hum in return. "that's a pretty name," he spoke up, grabbing the box you were about to grab.
"thanks," you blushed, turning away quickly.
the rest of the process went smoothly, small talk was made as well as a couple of jokes here and there. once you were done, chris gives you his number, swearing the two of you have to become friends.
"text me some time," he smiled, walking away and leaving you a flustered mess.
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only a month had passed but yours and chris' friendship seemed to be blossoming quickly. currently, you were heading downstairs. chris had stated he needed to talk to you and that it was urgent.
so here you were, rushing over to his house in nothing but some pajama shorts and an oversized hoodie. you rang the doorbell and was greeted by one of his brothers, "where's chris?" you ask.
"his room," the boy states, "thanks nick," you smile, going down to chris' room. "chris?" you question, knocking on the door. "took you long enough," he sighed, swinging the door open.
you were pulled into the room by your sweater, the door shutting behind you. "what's so urgent?" you ask, crossing your arms. "oh," chris nervously laughs, scratching the nape of his neck.
"chris," you say, "i was bored," he stated sheepishly, a pink hue spreading across his face. you stared at him for a moment your eyes narrowing. "i... was just getting ready to go to bed," you said slowly, a blush creeping up on your face.
"and now you can sleep here," he shrugged, not realizing his words until your cheeks grew pinker. the tips of your ears turned pink as you cleared your throat, hoping to clear some of the not so innocent thoughts that clouded your mind at the current time.
"um," you squeaked, clearing your throat. "uh," you tried again. chris stared at you, waiting for you to say something. "sorry, what?" you said, blinking. you were ashamed that the only thing you could see when you looked at him was his hands around your throat.
"do you wanna play a game?" chris asks, changing the topic. you gulp, nodding. "cool," he grins, walking over to his play station turning it on. he sat on the edge of his bed, patting the seat next to him.
"what are we playing?" you ask, sitting down next to him. "fifa, maybe? or just some mortal combat," he suggests. "mortal combat, maybe?" it was game you were familiar with, so therefore you hoped it would distract you.
you had no idea how wrong you were. "i'm gonna kick you ass," you giggle as he clicks the game, "yeah, okay, ma," he stated, sending a shiver down your spine. "i'm a fucking master at this game," he laughed, not noticing your change of posture.
"prove it," you challenged, your voice low. he smirked, looking at you. he noticed the shift in your behavior and it only boosted his ego. "i'm gonna beat your ass at this game, princess," he smirked.
you shivered.
"are you cold?" he asked, a cocky smirk on his face as he tilted his head. you were absolutely fucked. "n-no," you stutter, clearing your throat.
he clicked a few more buttons, handing you a controller. "ready, princess?" he asked. your breathing quickened. you nodded, gripping the controller in your hands.
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you couldn't even remember when you had died, let alone how many times you had died. all you knew was chris had a hand wrapped around your throat at the very moment, pressing your body into his mattress as he hovered over you.
"you think i wouldn't notice, huh?" he cooed, his thumb caressing your throat. "what were you thinking 'bout in that pretty head of yours hmm?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.
"n-nothing," you mumbled, his hand squeezing the sides of your neck. "nothing? then why were you so distracted, ma?" he asked, his eyes scanning your body.
"was thinking about-" you cut yourself off. you couldn't admit that to him, could you?
"about what, ma?" he pushed, his knee sliding between your thighs. a whimper left your lips as you bucked your hips against his leg, desperate for any sort of relief. he caught on, pushing his knee up into you clothed cunt, the thin fabric you have covering it not doing much for you.
"chris," you moan, your hands reaching to grip the hem of his hoodie.
"c'mon, ma, use those pretty words," he smiled innocently, grinding his knee into your cunt. "y-your hands," you breathed, tears welling up in your eyes from the heat building in your stomach. "that's what's got you so riled up?" he asks, running his hand down from the base of your neck to your right boob.
he cupped the mound, squeezing. a soft whimper left your lips, "fuck chris," you squeak, in warning. he pulls his knee back, your hips following him as a needy whine leaves your mouth.
"so pathetic, about to cum on my knee," he tsked, his hand trailing up to your chin, his pointer finger and thumb grabbing ahold of your chin and forcing you to look at him. "chris," you whine, a huff leaving your lips.
"don't get all bitchy," he scoffed, squeezing your jaw. "don't wanna see that bratty behavior." he added, a small smile tugging at his lips. you were a mess underneath him and he took pride in that, knowing he was the reason for your current state.
"c'mon ma, use those big girl words and tell me what you want," he said, his grip on your jaw loosening as his hand ran down to the bottom of your hoodie. his fingers dipped in the waistband of your shorts, smirking at how loose they were.
"please touch me," you begged, your fingers tugging at his hoodie. a chuckle left his mouth as he dipped his fingers past the hem of your shorts and into your underwear. a small sigh left his lips when he felt the wet spot that had formed in your panties.
"so fucking wet," he said, pulling his hand out and bringing his hand to his lips, licking the pad of his middle finger. you whined at the lack of contact, your eyes fluttering shut.
"keep 'em open, sweetheart," he smirked, pushing the fabric to the side. you felt the bed dip before a small gasp left your mouth when his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking harshly.
"oh god," you moan, arching your back off the bed. your hand went to grip the sheets, your knuckles turning white as he ate you out like a starving man.
"fuck," he groaned, the vibrations making your head spin. he slipped his index finger into your cunt, pumping the digit slowly. he curled his finger, a moan falling from his lips as he watched your mouth fall open.
"feels so good," you moan, bucking your hips. chris used his free hand to push your hips into the bed, holding you still as he sped up his actions. a second finger was added and chris started to move his fingers quicker. the wet noises of your cunt could be heard, adding onto the dirty sounds of chris eating you out.
"gonna cum," you breathe, the heat in the pit of your stomach growing. a third finger was added, causing you to arch your back. "don't stop," you begged, a high-pitched whine leaving your mouth.
a muffled 'never' could be heard from him. "fuck, so good," you praised, feeling your climax grow closer. chris pulled back, a string of spit and slick connecting his mouth and your cunt. "gonna be a good girl and cum for me?" he asks, his fingers hitting a spongy spot.
"fuck," you squeal, "fuck, mhm," you babbled, clenching around his fingers. your legs shook, "right there," you cry, his tongue lapping at your clit as he fingered you. "such a good little slut," he praised, watching as your orgasm crashed into you.
you squirted on his face, a gasp leaving your lips. chris lapped up the juices, his fingers pumping slower, allowing you to come down from your high. "so beautiful," he cooed, placing a soft kiss on your clit, causing you to twitch.
"wanna suck you off," you whine, a desperate plea leaving your lips. chris nodded, getting up and kneeling beside the bed. you sat up, scooting forward.
you pulled his sweats and briefs down, his hard cock springing out. pre-cum was already leaking out of the tip, the vein on the underside of his cock bulging. "so pretty," you praised, running your finger along the vein, collecting the pre-cum.
he let out a small his, tangling his hand in your hair. "pretty little cockwhore," he cooed, pulling on your hair. a moan left your mouth, "so eager for my cock, aren't ya?" he asks, rubbing the head of his cock along your lips.
"so pretty," he smiled, pushing his dick into your mouth. a whine left your mouth as he slid his cock further into your mouth. a small groan left his lips as he reached the back of your throat, a small gag leaving your mouth.
"you were made for my cock," he groaned, thrusting his hips forward, his cock hitting the back of your throat. a few tears sprung from the corners of your eyes, but nothing other than pleasure could be seen on your face.
"gonna make me cum down that pretty throat, huh?" you hummed, looking up a him through your lashes. "so good with that pretty mouth," he praised, making a makeshift ponytail. your scalp burned as he his grip tightened.
your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you hollowed your cheeks, swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock. a moan left his mouth, the noise sounding absolutely wrecked. "fuck," he breathed, his chest heaving.
you looked absolutely filthy; mascara and eyeliner littered tears running down your cheeks, drool dripping down the sides of your mouth, eyes half lidded, and chris' cock shoved down your throat. he loved it.
he could feel the heat in his stomach grow, his orgasm nearing. a muffled whine left your mouth as he pushed your head down, "such a pretty cum slut," he moaned, the vibrations around his cock making him groan.
he came down your throat, the warm substance filling your mouth. his grip loosened and he pulled out of your mouth. his cum dripped from the sides of your mouth, mixing with the drool.
you swallowed the milky substance, sitting up on your knees.
chris looked down at you, a smile tugging on his lips, "such a good little slut," he praises, using the pads of his thumbs to wipe away the remnants of his cum from the corners of your mouth.
he sat down on the bed pressing his lips to yours, as he pulled you to his lap. he broke the kiss to slide your hoodie up your body, reconnecting his lips to yours.
his hands rested on the skin of your ass that the fabric of your shorts didn't cover, kneading the flesh with his hands. a moan left your mouth when chris moved his lips down to your neck, leaving purple and red marks.
"chris," you breathed, grinding your hips into his. "wanna wreck you," he breathed, his grip tightening. "please," you begged, a desperate plead. he stood, dropping you onto his bed. "ass up," he instructed, smacking your thigh.
you got onto your hands and knees, chris stripping his hoodie and shirt. he got onto his knees behind you, pulling your shorts down. a groan left his mouth as he pulled them down, your juices sticking to the fabric. "such a pretty pussy," he moaned, his thumb tracing over your cunt.
a shaky moan left your lips, a needy whine following, "chris, please," you pleaded. chris chuckled, his hand rubbing your ass. a yelp left your mouth when his hand met the flesh of your ass.
a moan slipped past your lips, the burn from the slap going straight to your cunt. "such a needy slut," he cooed.
"you look so pretty with my handprint on that pretty ass of yours," he praised, grabbing the globes of your ass and massaging them. a choked moan left your mouth as he lined his tip up with your cunt.
chris grabbed his shaft, tapping the head of his dick on your clit. he watched the way you clenched around nothing, his eyes rolling back. "so wet," he whispered, slowly pushing his cock into your cunt. a moan left his mouth as he sunk into you, bottoming out.
"fuck," you whine, burying your head into his pillow. "fuck," chris mimicked, his hand moving your hair to the side. "such a pretty little cockslut," he smirked, slowly pulling his hips back. you chased his hips, pushing your ass back.
"fuck yourself," he ordered, one of his hands going to the headboard while the other goes to your back. you nodded, starting to rock your hips. soft moans left your mouth, as you bounced your ass back.
you sped up, the coil in the pit of your stomach growing tight. you cried out when you hit your g-spot, the noise making chris snap. he pulled out, flipping you over and putting your legs over his shoulders.
he lined his cock up and thrusted back in. a scream left your mouth, his pace immediately brutal. "so good for me," he praised, his hand wrapping around your throat. his other hand rested on the bed beside you, helping him balance as his pace didn't slow.
"fuck," you choked, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. "so pretty," he breathed, his grip on your neck tightening. the coil in your stomach snapped, the air in your lungs being knocked out as you squirted.
"such a good girl," chris praised, not stopping his thrusts. a loud whine left your lips as you reached down to his wrist, pulling his hand away from your throat. he got the memo, intertwining his fingers with yours as he pinned them above your head. he leaned down to kiss you, your legs pushing further against your body, causing him to hit deeper.
"oh, god," you moaned, breaking the kiss. "right there," you choked, tears rolling down your face. chris smirked, hitting the spot again. "right there, ma?" he teased, earning a weak nod from you.
chris loved the sight below him. your eyes rolled back, lips slightly parted, hair a mess. a few tears running down your cheeks. "such a pretty little slut," he groaned, "mmm," you moaned out pathetically in response, earning a smirk from chris.
"what was that ma?" he asked, slamming into your cunt, making a wet sound. "cumming," you squealed, your body going limp. there wasn't a thought in your brain other than the way chris felt inside of you currently.
"cumming?" he asked, his smirk turning cocky. "such a slut, cumming on my cock, what twice? and i haven't even came once," he tsked. a pathetic whine left your lips. he let go of one of your hands and his free one went down to rub circles on your clit.
"gonna cum on my cock again?" he asked, his voice low. you nodded, not trusting your words. you couldn't even form a coherent sentence if you wanted to. the only thing on your mind was his cock.
"so cute," he cooed, "all dumb for my cock," he smirked, his hips starting to stutter. his words sent you over the edge, your legs shaking as you came again. a loud whine left your mouth. "such a dumb slut hmm," he asked, a groan leaving his lips.
"mhm," you hummed, tears rolling down your face. "so pretty," he praised, his hand moving from your wrist to swipe away some tears. your hands found his back, nails digging in harshly earning a hiss from him.
"oh, god," he groaned, the coil in his stomach growing tighter. "gonna cum in this pretty pussy," he moaned, "fill you up so well." his words earned another pathetic whine from you. "please," you begged, the word leaving your mouth like a prayer.
"yeah?" he asked, his hips beginning to lose rhythm, "want me to cum inside my dumb little slut?" you nodded, a sob leaving your lips. "please," you said again.
"so fuckin' dumb," he groaned, his grip on your thigh tightening. he slammed his lips onto yours, biting your bottom lip as his hips lost their rhythm completely, his cock twitching inside of you as he came. a moan left his mouth as you clenched around him.
he pulled back, his eyes meeting yours, "such a dumb little slut," he chuckled. a smile tugged at his lips as his chest heaved, his body collapsing onto yours. a small gasp left your lips, his cock still buried inside of you.
"such a pretty little cumslut," he cooed, placing a kiss on your cheek. "so dumb," you giggled, making him laugh. "let me clean us up, yeah?" he asked, earning a hum.
he pulled out of you, causing a hiss to leave your mouth. he grabbed a towel from the floor, wiping his dick off before coming back and wiping up your thighs. "so good for me, baby," he smiled, throwing the towel somewhere else in his room.
"can i cuddle you?" you asked, earning a laugh. "i just railed you," he laughed, "you don't have to ask, ma," he chuckled, grabbing a blanket and throwing it over the both of you. he laid next to you, pulling you closer.
"i'm sorry i was mean," he said, you tilted your head, confused, mean, when? "during," he clarified, "oh," you smiled, shaking your head. "i liked it," you laughed.
"good," he stated, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "go to sleep," he added. a yawn escaped your lips, snuggling closer.
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covetyou · 8 months ago
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egg hunt
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ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: oral sex (m! receiving), balls, questionable use of sex toys, semi-public blowjobs, eggs, Joel is a giant bunny, feelings, misunderstandings leading to angst. word count: 5.9k summary: Catching Joel dressed as a giant rabbit in your backyard wasn't on your bingo card for things to happen to you this year. But, what waits for you beneath the bunny suit, and in his basket, aren't the only surprises you'll have tonight.
A/N: truth be told I find eggs genuinely, criminally funny in every possible way, as well as disgusting, so happy Easter!
These egg things are hilarious, but also not nearly as fun as they seem, though if I'd had the genius idea to stick 'em on some balls I imagine I would've had a much better time tbh.
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You almost don't notice, too busy shoving your cup harshly against the ice dispenser before taking a long, deep, gulp of the cold liquid. But then you see it, and it's not the shock of cold to your esophagus that makes your eyes widen, spluttering icy water before sucking in a desperate breath.
No. It's the ghostly white figure rummaging around in your backyard on all fours.
You duck down just as it stands, holding on tightly to the counter edge with both hands, before crawling to the backdoor to check it's locked, keeping you safely inside away from whatever this thing was. But, just as you reach for the latch, the creature stands on two legs, stretching back with two thick arms on its waist.
The figure is broad, and tall, and... dressed in what appears to be a giant bunny onesie. Even with it's head covered in a white hood, bunny ears flapping as the creature bends and moves, you know what it is. Who it is. You'd recognize those shoulders just about anywhere, and no one else would pull something like this at 9pm on a Sunday.
It had been weeks since you last saw him, but you can't say that was a surprise - what you had wasn't exactly a regular thing, if it could be called a thing at all. That doesn't mean you hadn't been hoping for it, counting down the days to the next holiday in hopes you'd see him again - There was no denying your disappointment St. Patrick's day came and went with no sign of a leprechaun and a pot of gold. Now, he was finally here, dressed head to toe in a bunny suit, doing fuck knows what to your lawn.
"The fucker..."
Unlocking the door, you slink out into the night, sliding it closed behind you before creeping across the yard. This was new, getting to be the one to surprise him. He may have been in your yard, but with each soft step of your foot on the grass it looked like you were finally going to one up him.
But then he turns around, looking toward the house and seemingly straight through you for a moment...
Before his eyes focus on you in the dark, and everything in his hands goes tumbling to the ground as he practically leaps out of his bunny suit.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ."
"We've got to stop meeting like this," you say watching Joel's giant bunny ears flap in the air with his movement as he bends, reaching down to the grass to pick up the basket he dropped.
"You half scared the shit outta me, what're you doin' out here?" he grumbles as he rights himself.
"What are you doing out here? It's my yard. You Bunny Joel this time?" you joke, crossing your arms over your chest in a not-so-smooth attempt to cover yourself. Getting properly dressed had been the last thing on your mind when you stumbled down the stairs, legs still jelly and head still fuzzy from post-orgasm bliss. The only thought that registered was how damn thirsty you were as you tugged a worn, old shirt over your head and made your way to the kitchen. It wasn't cool enough to blame the temperature shift on your quickly puckering nipples, and you didn't feel like explaining where your panties were or why your thighs were simultaneously sticky and slippery. You're just grateful you put on anything at all, and at the very least it was long enough to cover your ass.
Joel smirks, your fruitless attempt at modesty not going unnoticed. "Ain't no regular bunny, darlin'. I'm the Easter Bunny."
"And the difference is...?"
"Eggs."
You laugh, folding yourself over a little as you giggle into the night. The whole get up really is ridiculous enough on its own, yet here you are discussing the nuances of being a giant bunny with a man more fond of playing dress up than anyone else you'd ever met.
"Eggs?"
You spot them as soon as the word leaves your mouth - four colorful eggs sat neatly in his basket, and another nestled into your flowerbed. Only, they don't look like normal eggs at all. Squinting in the dark, the yard lit only by shitty solar lights you'd bought online last summer, you can make out the neat patterns swirled all over them. This was not the handiwork of some enthusiastic child dying eggs for Easter - they looked professionally painted. Joel shakes the basket at you as you continue to squint at it, and you realise not a single one has cracked or broken, even after being dropped on the floor.
"What are they? Egg shaped bouncy balls?"
"Got some balls right here if you're really that interested," he jokes, looking obscene as he waggles his eyebrows at you beneath the hood of the bunny onesie. "Here, they're just these... things. My brother got 'em for me as a joke, it's a long story."
He passes you one of the eggs, the surface smooth and cool in your hand. There's writing on it that you can just about make out, but you still have no clue what you're holding as you turn it around in your palm.
Sensing your confusion, Joel offers a choice gesture, as he explains that they're for "Y'know."
It clicks. Well, sort of. You know for sure then that they're not something you could sneak away for some solo playtime, like with the plug he dutifully left on by your bedside so many weeks ago but maybe, like the contraptions Joel had strapped over his balls your last two encounters, you could enjoy them together.
"Wait, so... you're giving me a thing for anatomy I don't even have?"
"No it's not like that, I just thought - I, well, shit."
"I'm just fuckin' with you, Bunny Joel. Though giving me a gift that's really a gift for yourself is a bit of a dick move."
"Ain't a dick move if you like 'em, sweetheart. And it's Easter Bunny Joel," he corrects with a wink, smiling at you as he drops the basket on the ground to pull at his neck tie. The man looks good in pink, you think, as he fiddles with the floppy satin.
"Y'know, Easter Bunny Joel doesn't quite roll off the tongue."
"Don't it?"
"Nope," you say with a pop, pinching the material of Joel's Bunny onesie to feel the fabric between your finger tips as your roll the egg across the palm of your other hand. "Think you need a better name than that."
"Okay, I'll bite. What you got in mind?"
You're walking your fingers down his chest now, dancing them in a criss-cross pattern across the fastenings at the front of the suit until you reach his hip and slowly you drag the tips of your fingers closer to his crotch until you're cupping his bulge. You wouldn't say he's entirely flaccid, there's certainly something there, but the length of him still feels pliable beneath your hand as you stroke over the front of his costume.
"I was thinking... Flopsy," you say with a squeeze of your palm against his cock, biting back a laugh when you hear him hiss a breath of night air through his teeth.
"Real funny."
"What? If you're committed to the bit, I can be too," and before he can protest you slip the fingers of your free hand between the fastenings on the front of his suit. You can feel his skin underneath, hot and sticky, trapped beneath the synthetic fabric of the bunny costume. At the very least, he's topless under there, and eager to find out more, you quickly yank at the front, grinning devilishly at Joel as the fabric pops open slightly.
"You really wanna be gettin' into this out here?"
"You scared, Flopsy?" you say, with another squeeze to his now much harder cock. "That side is up for sale, and Janet is out of town until Tuesday. No one's seeing anything. Unless you're scared someone might hear something... but I guess you'll just have to keep quiet."
"F- you're gonna be the death of me, darlin'," he mutters, pulling at his pink tie so it hangs loosely around his neck, giving him better movement to look down at your hand where it strokes his cock over the soft plush of the rabbit costume.
You tug again at the suit and with a rapid pop pop pop, the remaining fastenings hiding his chest from you pull open, revealing him to you and... he's a mess. From the neck down he's covered in streaks of paint, multicolored blooms splattered across him, dusting his ribs like a rainbow of bruises.
"Kid had some powder paint stuff - y'know that festival of color thing? Well, kid had some left after a party with a friend from school... had a little fight in the yard earlier before I dropped her back with her mom for the week," he explains quickly, rubbing a hand nervously against his chest and smearing the splattered rainbow there. You make a mental note, adding has a kid to the very short list of confirmed facts you know about Joel. It's not exactly a surprise revelation, all things considered - the costumes had to come from somewhere, and most grown men don't just have fairy wings and toy bows and arrows lying around.
"Well, Flopsy, you make a mighty fine canvas, but I think I might need a hand with this."
The egg you'd been turning in your hand is deposited back into his grasp just as you tug him forward giving him a peck on the chin and you look expectantly up at him. Joel knows he shouldn't pull you toward him and kiss you out here, he thinks he knows that the expectant look is nothing to do with kissing him and everything to do with the egg in his hand, but he does anyway. Slotting his mouth against yours, he pulls you into his chest, the sweat of his skin transfering blotches of paint from his chest to your old shirt. But you don't care, holding yourself tighter to him, pushing your fingers underneath his hood to card them through his hair. Joel groans into your mouth when your fingertips rub at his scalp. You're in half a mind to call him such a good bunny but the air, and the thought, is knocked out of you the next second when he presses a hand against your ass, pulling you further into him so he can grind his hardened length against your lower belly.
It's been far too long since someone held you against them like this, and far too long since Joel had had someone like you in his arms. As he kisses and kisses you, you're starting to feel more and more insane, and maybe you are - maybe accepting this man into your home with such regularity is the mark of insanity, some kind of as-of-yet undiscovered syndrome that's going to be named after you.
Eventually, you muster the strength to pull away, slapping a hand gently to his chest and nodding down to the egg gripped in his fist. You're eager to see it in action, even if you still can't quite picture what it is.
"C'mon, open it for me. Gotta properly thank the Easter Bunny for bringing me Easter eggs."
Joel slips the wrapper of the egg, something you never could've figured out on your own without decent lighting to guide your way, and presses a thumb into the side of it, popping the top off the egg in one smooth movement.
Before he can hand it to you, you slip down to your knees, bare shins resting against the cool, damp grass. It's a beautiful clear night, no trace of the moon in sight just yet, but the glimmer of stars sparkling relentlessly overhead regardless. You hadn't noticed how hot you'd gotten, but being around Joel always seemed to do this to you. Your cheeks felt hot, your heart beat faster, and your head felt slightly dizzy - the result of it emptying itself of all thoughts except the ones that made you make questionable decisions it seemed. Of course, this time the heat wasn't just from proximity, but from that damned fabric of his costume, the synthetic fibers making you feel sweaty as you held onto him. The grass beneath you is a welcome relief against your warm skin, sending the fine hairs on your body prickling at the sensation.
"This how you say thank you to everyone? On your knees?"
"It's how I say thank you to giant bunnies, Joel," you quip back, pressing a kiss to the softness of his belly. You litter a string of kisses down the trail of hair until you reach the boundary of the bunny suit. Whether he's commando or you have another layer to get through, you don't yet know, but you waste no time finding out. With the hook of your finger and a final swift pull, the last fastenings burst open, revealing Joel's heavy length straining against the front of his boxers. Where his tip tents the fabric, a darker patch blooms, turning the gray practically black with precum.
In your dreams, and there had been many of them, it didn't go like this. Dream you rarely went three rounds with themselves before Joel popped up to come fuck her brains out. Dream you was clever. And, as good as your solo session this evening was, you can't help but have a little regret for ruining yourself before the surprise main event. It was like eating a big meal right before someone suggested getting pizza. You could (and damn well would) eat pizza, but you couldn't enjoy it the same way. Pizza or Joel, you were going to savor it as best you could.
"Such a tease, Flopsy," you murmur as you kiss across his covered cock, nuzzling your face into it and watching in glee as his hand grips the opened egg that little bit tighter. Your fingers are pulling again, this time tugging down at his waistband. Joel is in half a mind to rid the egg of its shell and use the damn thing as a stress ball. It had been too long since last time, and since he last came two fucking days ago, to be seeing you on your knees for him in that flimsy t-shirt. It felt like a gift from the heavens and divine retribution wrapped up in one you shaped package.
As you pull his cock from the confines of his boxers, feeling the deep pulse of the blood in his veins as you wrap your fingers around him, you can't believe your luck at getting to see it in the flesh again. As brilliantly as your mind can concoct the image of it, the reality of it is so much better than any fantasy. Before you let yourself get lost in it, you reach for Joel's hand, grabbing the egg back from him and watching the top fall to the ground and roll across your lawn.
"It stretches. Goes over and you just - uh - stroke with it I guess."
The inside is far from what you expected. You almost find it gross, the translucent white interior far squishier than you expected that it'd be bordering on slimey if it was wet too. Joel laughs down at you, seeing your face as you try to work out what the fuck you're holding, pulling it free from the rest of the shell and seeing a hole stuffed with a plastic tube. You can see what he means now, and you let a soft oh fall from your lips as you tug the tube filled with a sachet of lube from the middle of the toy. You feel inside, running your fingers over soft ridges, and you can only imagine how nice it must feel sliding wetly up and down a cock and, not for the first time in your life, you wish you could experience it yourself. But, the next best thing is right in front of you, and that'll have to do.
"These feel good?" you ask, his eyes turning glassy as you examine the inside of the stroker while your hand still tugs slowly up and down his cock.
Joel sighs deeply, nodding down at you, the obscene bunny ears still flopping on his head with each movement. "S'good. Nothin' like the real deal but, yeah. Feel nice."
Gripping Joel's cock in your fist, you begin to stroke gently up and down, sliding his foreskin back and forth until he's steely hard beneath your palm. The solar lights are starting to dim, their charge from the day already running out, but you can still see the dusky red tip, and the blue of the vein that runs down his shaft. You squish the toy in your other hand, the temptation to taste too strong to just leave all the fun to the squishy silicone. So, you press a delicate kiss right to the tip.
"Oh fuck," Joel hisses.
"Missed it," you confess on your knees with another kiss.
"Yeah? Well, s'all yours." Mine.
"Really? Your bunny wife not going to chase me out of my own yard?"
"Know damn well I ain't got a wife, I ain't the cheatin' kind, darlin', don't you worry."
And that admission alone sends your aching cunt throbbing between your legs, wishing even more desperately now that you weren't completely wrecked and oversensitive from your ill-timed playtime upstairs.
"Good," is all you say before taking his head in your mouth with a swirl of your tongue, a satisfied moan vibrating against his tip as you taste him properly for the first time in 4 months. "I've been thinking about doing this."
"Yeah? Been thinking about sucking my cock?"
"Mhm."
"Shit."
A simple continuous swirl of your tongue and small bob of your head was apparently enough to have him gripping his hands into tight fists, clearly fighting some internal demons to keep himself from coming so soon. Your mind absolutely fizzes with it, that this man wants you, likes what you do to him so much that you can have such an affect on him. And when you suck lightly, his head tips back so far the hood slides back off his head. All you can see is the underside of his jaw from where you look up from your knees, and when looks back down at you with heavy eyes, he looks the most normal you've ever seen him. He's not Santa, nor Cupid, and the costume that had rendered him Bunny Joel just a second ago instead drapes around him like nothing more than a soft, white coat.
"Thought about you tasting you," you mutter between mouthing at his cock, slicking his entire length with your saliva. "Having you come in my mouth. On my face."
Joel groans again, much louder this time and you can't help but laugh, mouth pressed to his balls, at his feeble attempt at silence. You press the tip of your finger, egg still clutched in your fist, to his dribbling slit, and drag a tooth grazing kiss across his sensitive ball skin as you silence him with a whisper.
"Shh, Flopsy. You don't want us to get caught."
"Fuckin' Flopsy, I should -"
But you don't hear what he should do, because you engulf his tip with your mouth once again and Joel finds himself speechless as you immediately slide your lips further down his slicked length with ease. You work him in your mouth, sucking him as you move up and down. He can't stop moaning, he doesn't even try. He should, he thinks. You deserve better than getting caught in your backyard doing something like this, but all he can think about each time you move your tongue just like that is how fucking good your mouth feels.
He feels like he's going to come. Your hand is massaging gently over his balls, your mouth working his cock to a near frenzy, and he is absolutely, one hundred percent sure he's going to come. You know he's almost there. If the groaning wasn't enough, the tightening in his balls and the twitching of his cock were a clear sign he was about to blow.
Then you stop.
Just like that, your mouth is gone. Your hands too. And he's having to force himself to look down at you where you stare in awe at the stroker in your hands, glistening with lube you'd poured into it as he bit his lip and fought off coming, untouched, into the breeze.
You want to use it on him, to listen to him groan as you stroke him with the soft silicone, and watch his every move as you work him over the edge. And his cock, as if calling to you like some kind of siren of the sea, beckons you in, accepting an offering of one last kiss before you raise the stroker.
"It's so stretchy," you gasp, as you slide the toy over the tip of Joel's cock. You can pull it almost all the way down the length of him. You make a few experimental twists and jerks, before settling into a slow rhythm, teasing him just as you'd teased yourself and dragged out your own orgasm upstairs.
It's interesting. Slipperier than your own hand, easier than your own mouth, but not quite the same as either. You can't feel him like this, and you certainly can't taste him.
"Do you like it?" you ask, and Joel doesn't quite know what to answer. He does like it - he likes having your hands on him any way he can get it, but he can't feel you in the same way like this. And it's definitely not as good as your mouth, or any other hole of yours he's fucked.
There's just enough light to see his face give a noncommittal twitch and you're peeling the toy off of him, sucking his tip back into your mouth quickly, moaning as the taste of him hits your tongue.
"Good, because I prefer it like this too."
"Fuck, yeah."
Now though, you have a lubed up, saggy egg in your hand and nowhere to put it. Until an absolutely inspired idea hits you square in the face and you're grinning with Joel's cock in your mouth.
He barely sees the fiendish look in your eye, just notices as you pull off him again, and he could scream. Then, something smooth and cold coats his balls. Your fingers are cradling him delicately, thumb and forefinger stretching open the toy until with a gentle wiggle, his balls are encased in the squishy silicone. And holy fuck, is it like nothing he's ever felt.
"Don't think that's how you use it, darlin'. But, shit, it's good," he gasps as you gently massage his balls through the toy. It's like having a soft cool mouth encasing his entire ballsack, while your actual mouth kisses delicately all over his cock. "C'mon now, stop your teasin', gotta come in the pretty fuckin' mouth."
He's back in your mouth before he even finishes his sentence, your mouth sounding wet an obscene as you work him up and up and up all over again. You draw him in deeper, his cock meeting the back of your throat, over and over, his hand coming to cup your face and delicately wipe away a tear from your watering eyes. Fuck, you're wishing more than ever that you could just jump on him, that your cunt wasn't wrecked, or that it didn't matter, that you could go infinite rounds and still want to be touched again and again. But that wasn't you. You had a limit and, even though you'd reached it, the want in you didn't go away and neither did the slick feeling between your legs or the deep throb of your pulse beating away in your clit.
Joel's fingers grip tighter on the side of your face, a soft thrust of his hips meeting every movement of your head. Catching his eye almost kills you then and there with his cock wedged at the back of your throat. He looks as wrecked as you feel, dark eyes shining down like black holes from space now that the light from your solar lamps has all but fucked off. The paint and rabbit ears almost fade away into the background as you hold yourself down on his cock, making yourself whine around him. You're starting to think if you sucked his cock for long enough you could make yourself come totally untouched, but you don't want to think about it. You can't.
He takes over then. Each slip of your lips down his cock met with a gentle hold, until you both do it all over again. It's easier to hold for longer each time, almost feeling deeper with each slide of his cock across your tongue, the taste of his precum making you salivate as much as having your mouth filled and occupied is.
Then, he presses you down, holding your head as you moan and whine and try desperately to swallow around him, to take more of him as he only seems to get harder.
"Not so Flopsy now, huh?" he asks, releasing you and pushing your head down on his cock once more.
He's fucking into your mouth now, small shallow thrusts hitting the back of your throat, your hand working the toy slickly across his balls as he moans more desperately than you've ever heard him moan before. Despite your teasing and edging, he's the one holding back now, the feel of your mouth on his cock, your nails scratching at his belly, and that damned toy sliding across his balls far too much for him to want to let go of any time soon.
But fuck is he close, and if he's not careful he's going to ruin it for himself by holding back and exploding without warning. He's waited too long for that to happen.
"I'm gonna -"
"Mhm!" you groan around his dick, nodding as much as you can with it in your mouth. You steady your hand against his waist, taking over all movement as he stills the slow gyration of his hips, bobbing your head faster as you suck him down. The swirl and flick of your tongue is positively relentless, and everything feels so wet and warm and fucking perfect that he knows he's a goner.
"Hn-uhhhhh, fuck. Ah, fuck, don't stop, don't stop, fuck, ugh!"
He bursts, salty in your mouth, filling your throat as you swallow around him, massaging and gripping his heavy balls as they twitch in your palm through the thick silicone.
You're only a bit of a mess when you pull off of him. Your lips are swollen and tingly, your hand slippery with lube, but you are totally, utterly content. The slick feeling between your legs is still there, so is the throb, but you're as satisfied as you could possibly be.
Pulling yourself to your feet is another story. Your legs have gone a bit numb from sitting on your knees for so long, and you stumble as you fight to right yourself, Joel catching you just before you tumble into the flowerbed. You laugh in his arms, his mouth pressed to yours as he swallows the sound, consumes it, wills it to make home in his body so he never forgets it.
Joel's fingers work their way under your thin shirt. He'd been looking between your face and your nipples the entire time you were on your knees for him, and he suspects you're entirely naked under there. When his fingers meet your sticky thighs, he thinks he's hit the jackpot, and is ready to return the favor through the haze of his own orgasm, when you stop him.
"I, uh... sorted myself out not too long ago. A few times."
"Damn, if I'd known I woulda come right up and helped you out myself. Thought you were sleepin', house was dark. Jus' playing with this sweet thing all along, huh?"
If he had known, he would have known how much you thought about him as you fucked yourself on your fingers. He would have known how you used the plug he left on your bedside table more than any of the others, crying his name out into the lonely expanse of your bedroom as you came quicker, and harder, than you had any right to. If he had known, he'd know how well and truly fucked you were over a man you still knew practically nothing about.
Of course, you knew some physical things. You knew what he looked like naked, how broad he was, and how sweaty he got when he fucked you. You knew what he sounded like groaning into your mouth or laughing at a silly quip you'd thrown at him. You knew what he tasted like, and what you tasted like off of his tongue. But that was where your knowledge of him ended. You didn't know what he did for work, or if he even liked his job. You didn't know his favorite food or color. You didn't know what he sang in the car. You didn't know where he lived or what he drove - you didn't even know his full name, and you knew exactly why.
You were scared. Terrified, actually. Terrified to really get to know him, to break that blissful illusion of the tall, dark stranger who rocked your world on a seasonal basis, only to find you didn't like him at all. Or worse - that he didn't like you.
So, when you walk him through your house, egg disposed of and hands washed, listening to the soft snap of his suit being closed up around his bare body, you desperately try to ignore the longing ache in your chest, stopping any request for him to stay, to take you out for coffee in the morning before it stupidly tumbles out of your mouth. That's not what this is.
Instead, you wordlessly reach for your keys, smiling sweetly to him as if you hadn't just been waging war against yourself inside your head.
"What're you doing," he says, pointing to the keys held in your hand. "Goin' somewhere, or comin' home with me?"
"No, smart ass, this is a key, it locks doors. Just gonna lock up after you leave."
Joel's smile drops from his face. And you don't know why, but it has alarm bells immediately blaring in your head.
"What?" you ask nervously, eyes darting around his face as if you're trying to read his mind as he takes a slow step toward you, a frown slowly pulling his brow down as he pieces some mystery together.
"The door locks when it closes, then you the take the key and lock it again after?"
"... Maybe? Yes?"
"Wait. And you're tellin' me you do that every night."
"Yes, I lock my door every night Joel, what's wrong with that." Obviously your lock was no match for his lock picking skills, but you didn't consider that Joel perhaps didn't know how locks worked at all.
"What's wrong with that is you're unlocking your door every night and leaving it unlocked all night."
Your blood turns cold. You don't know why. You could just not believe him, or test for yourself, but something about his reaction, and his seemingly easy ability to get into your house, tells you that what he says is exactly right. It's your turn for your smile to drop, and you can feel it slip off your face just as your heart starts rapidly hopping in your chest.
"Oh. I - I thought..."
"It ain't that kind of lock, sweetheart. You never checked it after lockin' it?"
"No. No I - My last place, the lock, I had to - oh my god." There's dread now. A sickening cocktail of feelings swirling through your body, turning you red hot and cold over and over as you think of all the things that could've happened, how lucky you were they didn't, after all this time. Damn near a year, and you hadn't figured out how to properly work your own fucking door.
"How d'you think I been gettin' in? Didn't exactly climb down the chimney or fly in through the window the last two times. Maybe shouldn'ta done it that first time, but your tree was driving me mad, seein' it bare like that every time I drove past. You weren't in and the door was open, was only gonna be quick and then..."
You're not listening. Your heart has just stopped like it's been hurtled into a brick wall at 100mph. "Wait, you drive past my house?"
"Where else am I gonna fuckin' drive?!"
A thousand million volts straight to your chest, and your heart is beating again, racing, your voice raising with it, brandishing the pointy end of your key at him like it could save you now. "Have you been stalking me?"
"What? No! I live down the fuckin' street, I drive by to get to my house, I thought you knew that."
"Down the street?"
"Yes. I'm hardly gonna come from outta town just to fix your lights and your sink and fuck off again. I was just... bein' neighborly, I guess."
"You've been in my house fixing my shit without me here?"
It's just revelation after revelation. You can't believe it. You can't believe yourself for one, but you can't believe him either. Only you can. You very much believe him, and you hate that you do and you hate that, deep down, you know he's right and you're exactly the kind of idiot he's undoubtedly thinking you are.
"You ain't fuckin' noticed?! You had a light out in here, your kitchen faucet was drippin', your railin' in your hall closet was bust... you didn't notice anythin'? Are you even fuckin' in that pretty head o' yours?"
Suddenly you're feeling very stupid. The door is one thing, the minor home repairs another, but you'd been under the impression you were both on the same page this entire time. That it was some silly game you played, two strangers who had next to no clue about each other. All this time he knew who you were, but you were too fucking preoccupied and distracted and stupid to see that he was right there.
The heat in your checks crackles in your ears, misting over your eyes and making your entire body feel fuzzy. That fight or flight you'd been wondering about for the last few months has suddenly decided to make an appearance, settling on both as you fight back tears with a quivering lip.
"Get out." It's silent fury, building white hot as the seconds tick by with him standing, staring at you like you're the one dressed as a giant rabbit and not him.
"What? Darlin', c'mon, it's okay -"
"Get. Out." You wrench the door open, pushing him and his stupid fucking bunny costume out, shoving the basket of eggs into his arms once he crosses the doorway.
"Bye." You slam the door, the stupid fucking self locking door, and slide down it, head in your hands. You have never felt so fucking stupid.
next part
taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr
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bucktommypositivityweek · 26 days ago
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welcome to bucktommy positivity bingo! it's time to pick your bingo card!
below the cut are a variety of bingo cards - some sfw, some nsfw, some a mix! read the cards and pick which one you want to do (you could even pick multiple if you're ambitious!). save the card you want to do, and either repost it on your blog or save it somewhere to keep track of however you like! over the next few days, cross off every trope you manage to review/comment on a fanwork for, or create a new fanwork for, and try and get bingo! as a reminder, the sfw/nsfw/mixed categories only refer to the prompts given - it's fine to use explicit fanworks for the sfw card, or vice versa!
you are welcome to pick a card up at any time - the event will run for monday-thursday but there is no limit on when you can start, finish, or what you need to do each day!
the full event info can be found on our post here.
just let us know if you have any questions! otherwise, we'll see you tomorrow (monday 14th) for the first day of the event!!
sfw cards
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mixed cards
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nsfw cards
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physalian · 8 months ago
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10 Character Dynamics the World Needs More of
Me handing out character dynamics like free samples at the Mall Food Court: “Take one! Or two! You’ll love it!”
I don’t care how many times these tropes have been done – write more of them. Write all of them. Fill out your author bingo card one by one.
1. “No one gets to kill you but me, Old Friend”
This. Right here. Primo rival content that I *live* for. All the juicy history between two old frenemies, the character drama, the backstory, the titillating unknown of what drove these two to rival status, bitter enemies that respect the heck out of each other, to the point that hell hath no fury should one get knocked down without the other’s consent.
And, of course, the moment where it seems all bets are off, when the rival comes to save their ass only to hand it back to them at a later date. The angst! The shipping fodder! Need I say more?
2. A bigger, badder villain, and their minion
You, reader, spend countless hours hating the guts of the big bad villain. They’re evil, they’re vile, they’re sadistic, heartless, irredeemable bastards. They killed your favorite character for shock value. The big bad moustache-twirling antagonist… is actually not the biggest fish in the story.
Either they’re coerced into doing evil as a puppet of the Bigger Bad, a tragic villain in their own right, or they have some reservation, some line even they won’t cross, someone else’s boots they have to kiss, someone who features in their nightmares, as they feature in the heroes. They end their stories dispatched without a thought by the Bigger Bad, or redeem themselves in death by taking out their masters. It never gets old.
3. A leader and their lancer: besties
You know what’s better than leaders and lancers who have zero faith in each other and are constantly bickering about who should be in charge? Leaders and their right-hands who adore each other (platonically). They have each other’s backs, they know each other’s greatest strengths and weaknesses and are each other’s perfect covers.
They can communicate with looks and vague gestures alone, they compliment each other’s flaws and misgivings, build up the rest of the team when they’re down on their luck, and should misfortune strike either, they pull out all the stops and show off exactly why they’re not to be trifled with, so that even the villain is afraid.
4. “I don’t even know who you are”
Oh, but you will. This one twists the knife, robbing the avenging hero of the importance in this world they’re desperate to maintain. They are their own hero, the sun revolves around them… but not to this one asshat that ruined their life and doesn’t even remember doing it.
An entire identity built upon the finding, fighting, and overcoming of this wrongdoer, every other goal in life cast aside for this one impossibility. Either the villain toys with the hero to make them irate, or gets suckerpunched by some pissant fueled by vengeance and spite and divine purpose to dole justice where justice is due.
6. The jaded badass and their naive ward
If the last 8 years of media is anything to go by, we still love this trope, whether it’s in a galaxy far, far away or a fungi-zombie post-apocalypse, or in the twilight hours of an era of legendary mutants. The best part of this trope? You get two often contradictory character types in one body. The pessimist, PTSD-ridden master of old with no living friends left and at least one dead love interest *and* beneath all that, still lies an atrophied heart of gold just waiting to be nurtured and revived.
The naive ward gets a hard lesson in how crappy the world can be, but also in how there’s still some goodness left, if their guardian cares about them. The jaded badass in turn, learns how good the world can be, that there’s something still worth fighting for beyond the next bottom of a bottle.
6. The enemy of my enemy (is my friend)
Similar to the “old friends”, this trope is often a result of the minioned Big Bad realizing they don’t want to be evil anymore. Or, bitter old rivals, sides of a war that have been fighting for generations, ideological polar opposites, fundamental polar opposites all come together when: Some evil schmuck managed to scare them both.
Doesn’t matter on what shaky ground this temporary alliance is built, or how long it lasts, equally-competent badasses on both sides finally work together and compliment each other’s strengths, and compensate for their weaknesses, in a way their teammates never could.
7. The irredeemable villain’s only wholesome connection
Not so irredeemable anymore, now are they? This trope messes with your head, taking a character you know has done heinous acts of terror, but who cares unflinchingly, unabashedly, about one thing – either their lover, their pet, their relative, or their kid.
This exists independently of the heroes and is not the same as an “oops I guess I’m your father” reveal. I’m talking this character who everyone is convinced cares about nothing and no one but themselves and their ambition still has a place in their soul for something they want to protect, they want to be loved by, or that they must spare from their atrocities.
8. Platonic Heterosexual Friendships
These two have seen each other at their most vulnerable. They’ve shared fears, dreams, desires, know each other’s deepest, darkest secrets. They’ve seen each other exhausted, frazzled, dressed up, dressed down, bloodied and broken and like a raw, open nerve. These two would die for each other, they would live for each other, and yet.
They’re not in love with each other. They’re wholly comfortable in each other’s spaces without lust and desire mucking up the atmosphere. Neither is the one, neither wants to be the one. They remain together not for the bonds of romance, but for the bonds of friendship, and nothing could be stronger.
10. The Ace and their best friend, the Self-Proclaimed Slut
These two respect the f*ck out of each other. One never mocks the other for lacking desire and in return, they’re never mocked for their promiscuity. They’ll never walk in each other’s shoes, but they don’t need to, to understand that’s just how some people are. They’re each other’s safest spaces when the world doesn’t take either of them seriously.
They’re each other’s biggest defenders against the bullies, presumers, the holier-than-thous who think they have it all figured out. They’re the perfect compliment to give advice on everything from relationships to the best outfits for an outing because there’s *zero sexual tension* between them. Or, maybe, if the stars align, they’re something more.
10. The redeeming villain, and their staunchest skeptic
This villain has lost everything – their home, the respect of their people, their worth, their evil ambition, their identity, and has begun working their way up from rock bottom doing everything in their power to show the heroes that they’re serious. They make amends, they break their bones proving themselves, they’ve swayed everyone they’ve wronged in the hero camp.
Except one. The one character that was probably their first defender, and got burned for it. The character that was naive enough to think this villain could be saved, and was wrong. The character that won’t be duped again without some serious drama and soul-bearing between them.
Now tell me which ones I missed!
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saerins · 9 months ago
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⋆୨ chapter seven ୧˚ till forever falls apart
⋆୨ if not for you (masterlist) ⋆୨ previous: chapter six - redefines in every way what love is - end ୧˚
⋆୨ synopsis ୧˚ neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail?
ೀ series: sae x f!reader | wc 8.8k | ೀ content warnings: fluff/angst, modern au, arranged marriage, rich!sae and rich!reader, jealousy/paranoia, suggestive scenes, mentions of blood/children | notes: we have finally reached the end of infy !! rejoice i will no longer be able to torture you guys with the ending of this hehe but i do hope you all enjoyed this ^_^ & now onto the next !
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“I came here to talk to her.”
There’s no speck of kindness left in Sae’s eyes when he looks at what’s left of his former lover. He doesn’t even notice you sauntering up behind him.
“How many times do I need to tell you to leave us alone?” Sae emphasises that last part, uncertain of how else he can possibly phrase it so that she makes herself scarce.
For the first time tonight, Mirin doesn’t even pay attention to Sae. Her eyes look past him, focused entirely on you.
You take your position next to Sae, feeling his hand tenderly grip onto your wrist. At the very least, it gives you comfort knowing that he’s here no matter what’ll happen. Though, judging by the ever slight panic you can make out from Mirin’s face, whatever it is isn’t pretty.
Mirin doesn’t say a word, only stares at you expectantly. Swallowing your ego, you nod subtly. You’re curious.
“I’m sorry,” comes out of her mouth, and you don’t know how to feel. There’s a lot of things she needs to be sorry for, but that’s your personal feelings. Somehow, you doubt it’s related to anything with regards to Sae.
“If that’s all you came to say—”
“Do you know about your parents?” Mirin ignores Sae again, instead looking to you.
Sae’s about to just shut the door in her face when you tug on his hand, stopping him. He’s perplexed by you, but he listens to you just the same.
“Yeah, barely. What about it?” 
Because Sae did tell you briefly about it, about his suspicions on what they’re trying to do. You have to admit, having Oliver and his family’s PI stalk your parents wasn’t on your bingo card this year. And what he’s suspicious of never even crossed your mind. Only because even if they aren’t the best parents in the world, you didn’t think that they’d actually let any harm come upon you.
To think, they would try to take all of the money, not only their own but yours too, in order to save their own asses.
Mirin almost looks like she doesn’t want to say anything, her fingers grasping tightly and desperately on the hem of her dress before opening her mouth and making your heart sink to the depths below.
“The police are coming and it’s my fault and I know I haven’t done anything to earn your trust but can you please let me handle it?”
She says it all in one breath. Hurriedly without pause.
Are the police already that close?
“What the fuck, Mirin?” Sae spits, his grip on you tightening as he pulls you behind him, the vein on his forehead close to popping.
Mirin swallows the lump in her throat and you’re left staring in a daze behind your husband, wondering what you’ve done that was so wrong that you deserved this; your parents, a scorned and jealous ex-lover, legal threats.
“Sae, please,” Mirin’s panicking and you wonder why that is. Correction, you can sense why—it’s plain old regret. Regret caused by rash actions done on impulse. “It’s my fault, I know but we don’t have time. Tabito’s trying to stall them but they’re coming.” Her eyes flicker over to you, and you’d think she’s beautiful if all you’re seeing isn’t just red.
You feel the injustice creeping up inside of you, threatening you to take action. “And why the hell should I trust you?” Your tone is harsher than you ever thought you could go, and even Mirin shrinks back at the venom she senses laced inside your words.
And usually you’d feel bad for it but someone has already called the cops on you for something you didn’t do and that someone is right in front of you asking you for the same trust she wouldn’t have afforded you if the roles were reversed. If you didn’t have any self control, you’d have slapped her by now.
Mirin’s about to say something when she hears seven tight raps on the door. As Sae reluctantly moves away to open the door, Mirin whips her head towards you one last time.
“Please.”
The last thing she deserves is a chance. You know that. Both your head and your heart are in the same place for once and yet why can’t you act on it? Why can’t you just tell her to shove it up her ass?
“Y/N,” Sae calls your name, hushed because you presume he’s just as cautious as you are.
Slowly, you nod your head, signalling for him to open the door. You don’t know what Mirin is planning, or whether all this is part of her evil plot to take you down somehow.
When the door opens, you see Sae’s friend, Karasu, stepping in first before a detective, a dirty blonde with dark circles under his eyes like he hasn’t slept for days. Behind him, two policemen stand guard, watching you cautiously, as though you might try to jump out the window just to run from them.
“Are you Y/N?”
The detective is addressing you, and you’re sure he’s only doing it out of courtesy because these people always do their work before nabbing their supposed targets. Beside you, Mirin steps one step forward, her earlier panic expertly masked by a puzzlingly professional expression. From your line of sight, behind where the detective stands, Sae tries to move toward you, only to have Karasu reach out to grab his wrist and keep him there, a subtle shake of his head as the only signal for him not to make any moves.
“I am,” you respond, because any under or overreaction would only prove to make you look guilty.
“What is this about, detective?” Mirin asks, a casual aloofness donned on her face now. You’re impressed by just how quickly she can change her moods.
“Oh, it’s you, Ms Seto,” the detective says, realising who she is, and you don’t doubt how influential her father’s been to all of Japan with his work. Immediately, his face softens and brightens up, as though it’s imperative that he stay on their family’s good side. He probably assumes that just because Mirin’s here in this hotel room that she’s close to you. “We received an anonymous tip regarding Ms L/N’s family here, as well as her possible involvement. We’d like to take her down to the station for some questioning.”
So that’s what Mirin had done to you. She had tried to pin part of what your parents are doing on you, too. You nearly scoff if not for the fact you know that the two policemen behind are watching you like a hawk. Mirin is the one who scoffs though, crossing her arms like she’s been through these situations a thousand times.
Beside you, any trace of guilt is absent from Mirin’s expression because apparently, and you don’t doubt it, she’s a very good actress. If it’s up to you, you’d say that her talents are wasted since she’s not one. And while your stubborn ego wants to solve this for yourself, you’d never even gotten in trouble with the local police before for anything, and something tells you that Mirin is way better than you are at this, so you keep your mouth shut and let her handle this like she asked.
“So you have no proof of any sort that she’s complicit in any illegal activities?”
The detective chuckles helplessly, like he expects Mirin to be that attentive. “No, not until the anonymous tipper provides us with what they say they have.”
Mirin’s expression falters just slightly for a split second before she’s back to normal. “So no concrete proof, then?”
“No, ma’am.” The detective seems a little laid back around her—are they family friends? Sure seems like it to you.
“Then I’d appreciate it if you don’t treat Y/N here like she’s some sort of criminal. We wouldn’t want anyone seeing her being escorted into a police car and making assumptions, would we?”
Behind him, Sae seems to have relaxed a little, lacking the earlier blind hostility he held. Maybe it partly has to do with whatever Karasu whispered to him right before this. Still, he’s as surprised as you are that Mirin’s committing herself to covering for you.
“Fine, we’ll meet at the station then,” the detective says, the mirth still on his face as he bids a temporary goodbye.
When all that’s left are the four of you, Sae immediately takes his place beside you, his hand possessively gripping your wrist, an accusatory look thrown in Mirin’s direction. “You did all of that just to mess with my wife?”
Mirin’s expression falters when he uses that term again, for you, because deep down, she still wishes for it to be her. She still wishes for that guy she fell in love with and made all those plans with to be hers. Hers, and no one else’s. But it’s evident enough that no matter how much she tries, even if you somehow ended up dead, it would never be her. He’d rather wait for the ghost of you than live with anyone else.
Karasu walks over, settling himself between the divide. He’s the one who seems the most sane, given this has almost nothing to do with him. “Sae, leave it for now,” Karasu advises, blocking Mirin’s line of sight. You presume he’s just doing it as a favour, maybe to simmer Sae’s anger, because you can feel his hands trembling with rage even as they hold on to you. “We need to get Y/N to the police station before this gets any worse for her and her sister.”
Your throat goes dry. “My sister? She’s been taken in too?”
How ironic that you were doing all this just to protect her from the harsh reality that your parents never loved either of you.
Karasu nods apologetically. “My sources say she was taken in about half an hour ago, but discreetly.”
The passive anger that was only settling on the surface seems to finally boil over, and you thank god that Sae is holding you back from possibly harming Mirin. Otherwise, you’d have probably punched her right now.
“I’m… I’m sorry.” Her voice is timid and she’s trembling but you don’t hold an ounce of appreciation for her earlier actions nor sympathy for her current emotions. This was all because of her. Her, and your parents, and you doubt you’re enough of a saint to forgive either parties.
“If anything happens to her, I’ll make sure you regret it.” Your words are a warning, and Mirin takes them in silently.
Maybe you have been too nice, and way too passive. To the point where people like Mirin felt like they could try their best because they had nothing to fear. At the very least, it still comforts you knowing that Sae was never trying to get anywhere with her. If not, it was the very opposite, though you still didn’t appreciate his lack of communication.
“Hey, I’ll drive us there, okay?” Sae tells you softly, his hand tugging yours gently, briefly washing the anger off of you. When you face him and nod, he smiles, his hand coming up to place your head against his shoulder as he walks you to the car, Karasu and Mirin trudging wordlessly behind. You let him lead the way, finding an odd sense of comfort, different from before.
Now, you know that Sae will protect you unconditionally. He’s been doing it up until now, even when you weren’t his favourite person. Despite his shortcomings, despite the fact that he had no obligation to, Sae was always on your side.
And maybe now you can see a glimpse of the future you imagined, the one where you get unconditional love, the one where you can see a happy family who’s not just obsessed with money. A proper one, with its very foundations built on love and not control over another.
When you get to the carpark, you see Mirin getting into Karasu’s car, and you silently thank him for going out of his way to get involved in all of this. The last thing you need is to be able to see Mirin in the rearview mirror of your husband’s car, sitting there as though she deserved any sort of comfort. If you could, you’d stuff her in the trunk and tell her to deal with it.
However, even without her there, both of you stay relatively quiet. Maybe because neither of you have ever been in this type of situation; neither of you know what to say. Even so, as he pulls in to the parking lot of the station, he takes your hand, squeezing it gently, his teal eyes gentle as they fall into your gaze.
“No matter what, I promise you, I’ll protect you, okay?”
You don’t doubt his words. You nod, squeezing his hand back, tightly because you’re more nervous than he is. You’d probably have to face the interrogation alone, or at the most with Mirin, and who knows what she might pull in there?
“Hey, hey,” he calls out to you softly, his other hand coming up to your cheek and turning you to face him, his forehead pressing against your own, eyes still locked on yours, his smile the gentlest you’ve ever seen. “We’ll get through this. Whatever you decide, whatever you want to do, I’ll take your side, okay baby?”
Maybe it’s the way the pet name so easily rolls off your tongue, but you still find your heart skipping a beat at such a simple gesture.
“Ready?”
You take a deep breath, nodding.
“Ready.”
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While you’re in the room with Mirin and the detective, Sae finds himself pacing the waiting room restlessly despite Karasu’s attempts at calming him down.
The raven-haired man cocks a brow, amused by what he sees because Itoshi Sae of all people getting restless is always interesting. Usually, he doesn’t even get to see Sae bothered at all. The last time he saw that sliver of emotion was, well, back when Mirin left.
“Dude, relax, your wife will be fine.” That’s all Karasu can offer now, pointless words of assurance. Though he can argue he’s been plenty useful when calming Mirin down back at the hotel. 
Sae shoots him a warning look. “With Mirin in there?”
Karasu sighs, leaning back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t recall knowing when exactly things got so fucked up between them.
“Look, I don’t know what the fuck was up with her, I’ll be honest,” Karasu explains, the only person there with any hint of pity for Mirin. “She fucked up, she knows. And you don’t gotta forgive her, really. If it were me I’d have handled it much less classier than your wife did. But trust me, Mirin’s trying to make up for it right now, okay? We can’t do anything so relax.”
Silence falls over them for a while, the sounds of the landlines ringing and clacking of keyboards the only things they can hear.
“What did you say to make her regret it?”
Because Sae’s at the very least curious about why she was so quick to rescind her punishment for you.
His friend shrugs, “is it hard to believe it could be something as simple as realising she didn’t wanna lose you completely?”
The earlier hostility leaves Sae’s body, only a bitter upset lingering behind. Because he can believe it, because at the core, Mirin’s always been simple. The way she acts out, not so much. She’d already alienated Sae by having been the object of his affection once, and that was not her fault, but she’d exacerbated it by acting completely out of line. On the tip of her impulsiveness was just the last chance to either possibly redeem herself or risk thorough destruction of whatever was left of their entire relationship through the years.
Maybe it’s heartless of him, but he doesn’t care. Yeah, he should’ve handled it better in the beginning. He should’ve just told Mirin that he doesn’t want to be someone who wrecks his own home, even if it didn’t feel exactly like home back then. But you didn’t deserve the anger she placed onto you. After realising his feelings, that was where he drew the line. 
He doesn’t give a shit if Mirin woke up and regretted her actions. He doesn’t care if she’s trying to make up for it and save you. All he cares about is you and just you.
Sensing the tension in the air, Karasu forces a lighthearted chuckle. “What kind of magic does Y/N have to make someone like you so whipped, huh?”
There’s a pink hue to Sae’s cheeks at the mention of it, forcing him to look away as Karasu snickers at him.
“Look… don’t get mad, okay? But… do you think it’s possible she knew about it all?”
Never in his life has Sae’s fingers curled into a fist so fast, nails digging into his palms so hard, and Karasu has to throw his hands up in the air in surrender. Both of them know that if anything happens, they’re going to be recorded—and then the media will see it. And then everything will be taken out of context.
It’s routine at this point.
“She had nothing to do with it, so shut it.”
Does Sae know for sure that you don’t? Of course not. He doesn’t have evidence to support you, except that your parents left you behind. If your family’s really twisted, it could all be a part of some ploy. But Sae likes to think he knows you; you’re not sick or twisted. You’re kind and beautiful and trustworthy that he’s not even going to entertain the idea that you knew anything.
It isn’t long after that Sae spots you walking out of the interrogation room, down the corridor and back out to him. For the most part, at least you look fine. You’re trembling a little, so he clasps his hands over yours, holding you to him and kissing the top of your head.
“Hey, you doing okay?”
You can only manage a weak nod, but that’s enough for him. This situation can be a bit much for anyone. He holds you close like that, his warm body cloaking your own. You hate how it’s so easy for you to calm down when he’s here with you, and even if you’d like to condemn him for making such a whirlwind for your life you know it’s not technically his fault.
It was your parents who forced you into this marriage, or else you’d never have met Sae at all. It was Mirin who took it upon herself to try and ruin everything when Sae had refused her. And it was definitely your parents who took all their money and ran before they could get caught for multiple counts of fraud and embezzlement.
All Sae ever did was save your own money, all thanks to making that joint account. Otherwise, your parents would’ve made off with your money too, leaving you with no cent to your name, all properties seized.
You hold him a little tighter now, the tiff over what you thought was going on between him and Mirin seeming so stupid in comparison. Your own parents abandoned you and your sister, looked at you as just a pawn to get what they wanted. You don’t even know how you’re going to face Sae’s parents now that this happened.
A minute later, Mirin also waltzes out of the room, her feigned arrogance still present because the detective is still there. You gaze at them out of the corner of your eye; things only went so easy there because Mirin played her family’s cards right, and now both you and your sister are free to go.
In normal situations, this is where you thank her. But nothing about this is normal, and this was a situation partly borne out of Mirin’s impulsiveness. So all you manage is not paying her back with a slap.
“If you hear anything—”
“We’ll call you,” Sae cuts the detective off, his grip around you getting tighter.
Even if everything had been rocky earlier tonight, you find yourself comforted by the way you just know that Sae would protect you no matter what. You don’t even have to ask him, and he’d do right by you. For a moment, you wonder if this is the kind of unconditional love you’d always wanted.
“Hey, are you okay? Wanna go now?”
Sae’s voice is softer than you thought he could ever be, and all you want to do is melt into his embrace without thinking about anything but unfortunately the world is never so kind and neither is your mind because there’s a thousand questions running through it.
“Where’s my sister?”
“I got her to wait in Karasu���s car with her boyfriend. His car has more privacy and I thought it’d be best if no one outside could picture us.”
Right, because there are already some reporters who got hold of the news and are waiting right outside to ambush you into answering their questions. It’s all sorts of fucked up but you presume your parents are worse so you can’t really say anything.
Sae starts to lead the way to the carpark, his hand never leaving your side. He makes sure to look around, make sure nobody’s there to ambush you. Behind you, you can hear Karasu whispering things you can’t hear, probably to Mirin.
“That would mean there won’t be any space for her, right?” You ask, your mind still doing flips back and forth between being the bigger person and being petty about it. Because you’d love to be as ruthless as she once was to you, but ultimately, you don’t want to feel like you owe her anything.
As you reach the car, Karasu unlocks it, and Sae opens the back door, your sister sound asleep on the other side, her boyfriend muttering a soft ‘hello’. They both look tired, and you don’t blame them. At least you had Sae to warn you about what was going on, but to them it must’ve been a shock, especially for your poor sister who’s always been sheltered against the horrible things your parents could do.
“It’s fine, she can take the train,” Sae mutters, purposefully loud enough for Mirin to hear and hopefully get the hint.
Karasu’s about to suggest otherwise, but you interject—you’re pretty sure you’re the only one Sae will listen to now anyway. Even if Karasu tries to say anything, there’s a high chance that it’ll go ignored.
“She can sit in the front,” you say, because despite knowing better, it’s always been in you to try and be nice.
“Thank—”
“If she ends up getting pictured, it could blow back on us anyway,” you mutter coldly, because being nice doesn’t mean you have to make it apparent. There’s no one here you have to impress anyway, and Sae probably knows you’re just trying to hold it together for yourself, so you won’t have any regrets.
Like you predicted, Sae’s not all for it, but he doesn’t say a thing, following after you into the backseat, squeezing and trying not to wake your sister. Mirin doesn’t say a thing the whole way back, she only thanks Karasu for driving her back and leaves. Neither does Karasu say a thing, awkward silence hanging in the air as you catch him casting quick glances at you and Sae in the rearview mirror.
“Thanks for taking care of her,” you whisper to your sister’s boyfriend as he carries her out of the car. You didn’t get to talk to her all night, but that’s fine, you suppose she needs a long rest after everything she found out tonight.
He shoots you a helpless smile after he presses a kiss onto her forehead. The way he looks at her alone could make people believe in love, and you’ve never been more thankful that you tried your best to protect it. Among everyone, your sister’s always been good and kind, and even if you’ve never seen her around that much after university started for her, you love her all the same.
“You sure you don’t wanna wake her?” He asks you, quietly so he doesn’t disturb her. “She said she missed you, you know.”
You shake your head. “It’s fine, I’ll call her when things settle down,” you assure him, managing a genuine smile. “Take care of her, okay?”
Behind you, Sae smiles to himself when he figures out he must’ve married an angel, must be the luckiest man in the world. Despite everything that’s happened, you should be taking care of yourself, yet you managed to make sure Mirin got a ride home, and that your sister is in good hands. You’re a much bigger person than Sae can even dream to be and yet somehow, you chose to put all your effort into him and this marriage and even if he can’t tell where this will go from now on, he’s not going to give up on you.
When Karasu pulls out of your sister’s apartment parking, Sae slides over to your side, sitting himself on the middle backseat, putting an arm around you and gently placing your head in the crook of his neck. Then, only then, do you let your tears go, sobbing into his chest because you’d been holding back all this time, and Sae wonders if you do this a lot on a daily basis; put on a brave face as though you need to pretend you’re something you’re not. Though, if this was happening to him and Rin, he would be doing the same thing you are.
In the driver’s seat, Karasu finally understands why Oliver’s been saying Sae is a changed man. Even back then, with Mirin, Karasu doesn’t recall Sae being this gentle. Maybe it’s because he’s older now, or maybe it’s just because of you—the fact that it’s you, that’s why Sae is like this at all, a privilege only for a special person.
“Hey man,” Karasu calls out to Sae after you get out of the car. He smirks when Sae looks over at him, very much like a hopeless man in love because out of the corner of his eye, Karasu can tell that he has his hand in yours, keeping you there. Since when was he ever this clingy? “Congratulations.” Something he didn’t get to say because he wasn’t at the wedding.
But at least saying it now, he can really mean it.
Sae smiles subtly, but your head pops back into Karasu’s field of view before your husband can say anything.
“Hey, Karasu, right?”
He looks surprised, but he smiles at you all the same. “Yes, I am.”
You grin at him, and Karasu can already tell Sae’s a lucky man. Pretty wife, and from whatever Oliver’s mentioned, it sounds like you’re a keeper.
“I just met you tonight but… thank you, really,” you tell him, and he chuckles. 
You’re really something, because even Mirin had mentioned it to him earlier when she was having a full-on breakdown, when he had asked about you. Karasu thinks that it would just be a lot easier to think screw everyone and just focus on yourself, but apparently, not for you. Maybe he understands a little more of why Sae can’t help but fall for you.
“That’s a lot of shit to unload on someone who didn’t exactly steal Sae from you,” Karasu remarked, trying his best to steer Mirin in the right direction.
Mirin clicked her tongue, annoyed because she knew she wasn’t exactly acting with common sense. All she had wanted was to remove you from the picture, through any means necessary. So why? Why was it that whatever she tried would backfire on her? Why was it that no matter what, Sae would never give up on you? Where was the guy that so easily gave in when Mirin had suggested a breakup?
Why did she have to teach him everything only for you to get everything she ever wanted?
“Look, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but if you keep doing this…” Karasu trailed off, sighing as he looked away, scratching his head. “You’re really gonna lose every ounce of a friend you could possibly have in Sae.”
Mirin kept quiet for a while, then, as if she was considering something. Back then, Karasu hadn’t even known that anonymous tip she sent in to the police. If he had, he would’ve definitely acted faster.
“Is that Y/N even that bad of a girl?” Karasu thought out loud, wondering why there was all this trouble over you and Sae.
And for the first time since she got back to Japan, Mirin was completely honest with herself.
“No, she’s not.” (It was so quiet, Karasu had trouble deciding whether it was just the figment of his imagination.)
Because what had you ever done to her except unwillingly be placed in the middle of their by-then non-existent relationship?
“At your service, ma’am,” Karasu responds, grinning at you when he says his next words. “And don’t worry, I’ll keep Mirin in check.”
You still for a moment hearing those words, then pout at him before you slowly retreat out of the car, pulling Sae with you. You’re not even sure why you can find it in yourself to be worried for someone like Mirin who tried to screw you over. Maybe it’s because Sae had told you about her parents, about how she just didn’t have anyone and leaned on Sae for support out of habit. Somehow, Karasu’s words manage to comfort you a little bit; at least you knew that there was still someone else looking out for her. Your empathy is there, but that doesn’t mean you want to forgive her or even think about it.
Karasu laughs at your subtle reaction, rolling down the window, “hey Sae, your wife’s kinda cute,” he teases, and you see why Karasu managed to calm Mirin down back at the hotel. Whatever he did, it was definitely effective. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he oozes sincerity despite his jokes, something you can’t really say for Oliver and Shidou.
Beside you, Sae uses his body to block your line of sight as he flips Karasu off. “My wife, go away,” he quips, and you can only watch as Karasu laughs it off while he drives away from your apartment.
The moment you’re back in the house, Sae sets your bag down slowly on the couch, and you pause right before you enter the bedroom. Everything somehow feels light yet awkward and it feels like you’ve been through so many emotions in the span of one night and now it’s already 2am and you’re tired but it’s not like you can sleep right away with all these thoughts in your head.
You feel Sae’s chest press up against your back, his arms wrapping around your chest. Now that you know he’s never actually even cheated on you, or even thought about it, it’s like a huge weight has been lifted off your chest.
“What’s on your mind?” There’s a strain in his voice, and you can tell he’s gotten a cold just from tonight alone.
You sigh. “I don’t know if I can handle all of this…” you mutter honestly. Everything has just been too much. It was manageable back when you thought your marriage was the only thing in ruins, but to learn now that your parents are wanted fugitives and the fact that they’d leave you and your sister to clean things up and bear the brunt of being damned just for being their kids is a lot to take in for one night.
“You know I’m here for you whatever you need, right?” Sae asks, holding you tighter, pressing a kiss on your temple.
You want to be soft for him so bad, you want to melt into his touch and let him comfort you and hug him to sleep, but can you really afford it right now? Can you afford letting him feel that everything is fine after keeping everything from you and driving you to the point of thinking about divorce?
It’s not normal. It shouldn’t be.
And while you appreciate what he’s done for you in secret, that’s exactly what you’re not so sure about—secrets. You’re husband and wife, and if there’s going to be any hope moving forward, you can’t have him try and bear the burden of knowing alone.
“If you ever keep something like that from me again, I’m not giving you another chance,” you tell him, your voice quivering but he listens to you seriously all the same. It’s times like these where you appreciate that he isn’t the type to be joking around all the time. He’s serious when you need him to be, and that means a lot to you already.
“I promise you, I’ll talk to you, whatever it is,” he says, slowly turning you around, his fingers gently gripping your chin, tipping your head up to face him. “I meant what I said, by the way. I love you, Y/N, and I’m sorry I was being stupid. And I’ll try to make up for it, however long it takes me, okay?”
This is a first for you that it makes you emotional. For your entire life, you feel like it’s been you who’s been the one trying to take care of other people’s feelings and needs so much that you step all over your own. For your entire life, no one has cared about you so much so that they’d actively try and take care of you. Everyone lets you take care of everything yourself without thinking that it’d be nice to offer you help even if you looked like you didn’t need it.
For your whole life, you’d wondered how it would feel like being loved by someone who wants to take care of you just because. And here he is, making you feel like you’re loveable, like you’re worthy of being treated like a princess, like you don’t have to mask who you are to get his love because no matter what you do, his love overpowers it.
“So don’t leave me, okay?” Sae’s lashes flutter against your own, his teeth clenched because he’s thinking of how close he was to losing you and he would’ve never forgiven himself if you did.
And maybe it’s the way you realised he’s loved you in his own way all this while, or maybe it’s the way he keeps you so close to him now, so afraid of losing you, that you feel it’s okay to let yourself go, to let yourself be you, to wear your heart on your sleeve because no matter what it is, Sae will take care of it.
“I love you, Sae,” you whisper, both of you with your eyes closed, breaths mixed together, Sae subconsciously pushing you into the bedroom because he never realised that such simple words from you would ignite such an urgency inside him.
That night, for the first time, you experience Sae’s love for you. The way it’s so subtle, so gentle, a complete opposite of what you initially thought he was. The way he holds you in the palm of his hands and takes care of you completely; a dream you thought you’d never live to see come true. So many people go their whole lives being stuck in a relationship that they find lacking and yet here you are, getting everything you need and want and you don’t even have to ask for it because Sae knows you well enough to give it to you.
In the dim light of the moon that makes it into the slivers of your blinds, Sae marks you as his own, and even though neither of you have been through it, it feels right. It feels so right even when you’re lying in bed together after everything, legs tangled together underneath the blanket, bare bodies enveloping one another as the exhaustion finally kicks in.
Sae watches you as you fall asleep, finger lightly brushing your arms and lulling you to sleep. There’s a lot he still doesn’t understand about relationships, and the only form of experience he had seemingly meaning nothing in the face of his actual love, yet he’s strangely motivated now. There’s no way he’s going to let anything, much less himself, fuck this up.
No, he’s going to do his best to keep you happy, to take care of you and make sure you don’t have to be the one who acts strong all the time just to appease everyone else. He’s going to make you smile everyday because you deserve it, and he’ll do anything to make sure that happens.
Anything.
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“She had nothing to do with it.”
Of course, Sae’s parents didn’t take too well to the news. One night isn’t enough for it to blow over, because the moment they got the news, they were here to get to the bottom of it. As expected, you received nothing but accusatory remarks, and unlike Mirin’s, at least Sae’s parents had the right to be upset.
Still, Sae’s standing up to them, a protective arm keeping you behind him, making sure they don’t throw daggers at you.
They’re angry, but they’re not as bad as your own parents. At the very least, his father isn’t throwing a tantrum and breaking silverware. Doesn’t even look close to it. He only crosses his arms in disbelief, the vein on his forehead threatening to pop.
“Are you sure you want to defend her?” He asks his son, scoffing. “You know how bad of a reputation we have now thanks to her parents?”
“He’s right, honey, if you want to divorce her now we’d fully support you,” his mother joins in, and she’s every bit as submissive as your own mother, you bet. Anything for their money bag.
“I’m not divorcing my wife ever, so if that’s all you came to say, you can leave.”
Suddenly you feel guilt for being the one to bring up divorce in the first place.
The argument goes on for a while, and you keep quiet all through it. Only because Sae asked you to. It’s fair; he wants to handle his parents, so you’ll trust him to it. If there’s a need, you’d interject anyway.
Like right now, when you realise that maybe your silence is making things even worse, like your admittance of guilt.
“I’m sorry for what my parents did,” you speak up, bowing ninety degrees because as much as you hate their actions, you want to help Sae as much as you can. He must hate talking to his parents as much as you do, so the least you can do is alleviate that. “I really didn’t know what they were up to, and I didn’t expect it to affect your family’s reputation as well. I can’t even begin to repay you for what my parents did, but I can offer you everything I have now, and I’ll do anything you want me to.”
“Then easy, leave—”
“Except leave your son,” you affirm, straightening up and looking them in the eyes. “We love each other, so we’re going to make this work.” Beside you, a smile tugs on the corners of Sae’s lips at your declaration. Are you really the same person who used to be so meek in front of yours and his parents once upon a time? “As for my parents, I’ll let the authorities do their work and capture them. As far as I’m concerned, they’re dead to me.”
Perhaps it’s because of your strong words, but the Itoshis leave not ten minutes later.
You flop down on the couch, an exhausting morning followed by an exhausting night is entirely too much for you. Sae shamelessly lays himself down on top of you, head resting on your chest. He must still be tired, judging from the bags under his eyes.
“Sorry about that,” he mumbles, fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair. “You were pretty hot, though, sticking it to them.”
You stifle a laugh, though your smile speaks for itself. “Guess we should’ve expected that. They got conned out of their money too, after all. Wonder when this is all gonna blow over,” you sigh to yourself, just wishing that the problem would disappear.
Over the course of the next few days, you received texts from colleagues asking what happened, and Sumi in particular loves to cuss your parents out over text and then apologise for being insensitive afterwards. It carries a sense of normalcy that you needed, though.
It takes a few months before everything completely settles down for you, until your sister has come to the realisation that your parents abandoned you and deserve whatever hell they’re going to get. It doesn’t stop her from saying yes to her boyfriend when he proposes, and you and Sae watch on lovingly as she leaps into his arms and kisses him silly.
“You know what, a family like this doesn’t suck so much either,” you ponder out loud. All you really need is just your sister, and Sae—both of them have never failed you after all.
Sae puts his arm around you, holding you close like he always does. You notice that; that when Sae loves you he’ll crave your proximity everytime. Sumi likes to joke that he’s too clingy, but you like him just like that.
Seeing the scene unfold in front of them, your eyes twinkling as you watch the movie-like proposal in front of you, Sae feels just a pang of guilt.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t give that to you,” he mutters, though he already knows you don’t mind. To you, what matters the most is that the both of you are still together, still happy.
And that’s exactly what you say with your hands wrapped around his neck, kissing him with those perfect lips of yours, pulling him in so naturally without having to do anything.
“You give me more than enough, Itoshi Sae,” you whisper, oblivious to Sae falling even more and more in love with you.
“Have I told you I love you?”
You chuckle, nodding and Sae’s completely taken by your grin.
“We love you too.”
“We?”
And when you break it to him, in a hushed whisper because you don’t want to ruin the proposal, Sae gives you the most lovestruck expression you’ve ever seen.
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THREE YEARS LATER
A lot has changed.
Turns out, you’re not as cold-hearted as you thought. Mirin is still on the list of your least-liked humans, for sure, but it’s not like you care enough to harbour any resentment anymore. She’s not worth vexing over, and much less so after that one time years ago when she came over to personally apologise. You haven’t officially forgiven her, but you don’t particularly wish the worst upon her. You’re not even sure where she is or what she’s doing because Sae doesn’t care for keeping in touch with her, but you’re both indifferent about her now.
Reo had apparently met someone special last year when he attended a charity gala. You’ve never met her in person, but from the pictures Reo takes and shares on his socials—all to show her off, no doubt—she looks absolutely breathtaking. He was there with you throughout the whole fiasco too, lending his family’s support to weather you through the tough times. You’re happy he finally found that special someone. From his texts, sometimes it seems rocky, but he’s “pretty sure she’s the one,” and you’re honestly happy for him.
Your parents have been caught—apparently, a year out they’d tried to seek shelter with one of their friends only for them to tip the police off. It wasn’t even like you, but you visited your mother in jail, just out of curiosity, and the only thing she had begged you was to help them get a good lawyer. Not that you didn’t expect it, or that it would make any difference if you did agree. Frankly, you just went there to say “no”, to let her feel the same helplessness she and your father cast upon you. You’ve never visited her since.
Sae’s been busy ever since his career shift two years ago. (His parents weren’t all too happy about it, but ever since their screw up with yours, they weren’t as forceful anymore.) Now, he’s one of the assistant coaches for Japan’s national team, and you’ve never been happier for him. It gives him more flexibility too, getting to spend more time with you back at home, but also getting to invite you with him whenever they travel.
You guess it’s lucky that you managed to land a spot helping the team out with marketing, so more often than not you get to see your husband play some soccer. Like right now, when you’re bent over the railing, watching him coach the two main midfielders and looking completely different than when he’s at home.
For one, it’s definitely the first time you get to see him all intense. With you, he’s pretty much the opposite, going all soft whenever he gets home, and you wonder how you got so lucky to be building a home with someone who loves you so much he can spot you a mile away and give you the gentlest smile you’ve ever seen.
Sae calls for a break, jogging towards your direction looking handsome as hell but you’re not going to tell him that or else he’ll tease you about it.
“How are my girls?”
Oh, and you’ve apparently managed to give him a daughter that looks so much like him. She sits on the railing, your arms wrapped around her to support her as she jumps into her father’s arms.
“She’s been bugging me all day to come and visit you,” you remark.
Yeah, she’s a daddy’s girl—and you smile watching Sae kiss her all over, her laughter ringing in the air, her happiness meaning the world to you.
Neither you nor Sae have ever experienced what a good family is like, nor have either of you seen what good parenting is like. But your daughter seems happy everyday, with parents who support her whenever she wants to try something different, so you both take it one step at a time, learning as you go. If it ever gets too difficult for you, Sae steps in, and he’s never let you down.
“Remember what we’re gonna surprise mommy with later?” Sae asks your daughter, and you’re still trying to get used to him calling you that.
You arch a brow, “I get a surprise?”
Your daughter giggles, nodding as she melts in her father’s arms. “Of course, mommy! You’ll love it!”
Her smile is infectious, a grin forming on your face just by looking at her. You shift your gaze to your husband. “What is it?”
All he does is look you in the eyes, smirking. “You’ll see.”
That night, you entertain your daughter by letting her blindfold you and lead you, well, wherever the surprise is. It smells nice, wherever you are because you’d been blindfolded even during the car ride, and you can tell it’s grand because of the way your heels are clacking against the marble and the way Sae had dressed tonight.
By your guess, you’re probably at one of the nice hotels here for one of their signature buffet dinners. Your daughter’s never been, so that could be why she’s making a huge deal out of this. Like father, like daughter, so cute.
But when your daughter urgently whispers for you to take the blindfold off, you find yourself at the entrance of huge double doors, two hotel staff smiling and opening up to unveil a huge ballroom filled with people, most of them you recognise because they’re your friends.
It’s already bringing tears to your eyes when you realise what this must be.
They’re all cheering as they see you, your daughter skipping happily into the room, choosing to run straight to your purple-haired best friend at one of the tables who you thought was still busy abroad. Beside him, his beautiful girlfriend mouths a ‘hello’, but you’re still too surprised to respond.
Everyone’s clapping and cheering and all of a sudden you feel the familiar presence of your husband right beside you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kisses you on the cheek.
“Surprised?”
Honestly? Yes. Very. And you’re not one to be easily surprised at all.
“I wanted to give you the celebration you deserved,” he tells you, waiting for you to take it all in.
It’s a far cry from the pathetic reception you got from people you barely knew during your actual wedding reception. Sae had been nothing but cold to you back then too, so it felt more like a prison than anything.
Now? You recognise so many faces in the crowd that you can’t help but smile and wave back. You’d always wondered what this would be like, and your husband somehow manages to give it to you without having you ask for it and you’re in love. Because he seems ice cold and awkward and rough around the edges but his love for you has always, always been warm. His love has always felt like coming home and having a safe space and this might be the unconditional love you’d been praying for your whole life.
You almost gave up on it. But you know now Sae never will. And neither will you. You have a family now, a proper one built by two people who never had a stable environment, by two people who never came close to being provided one themselves.
Sae’s your pillar of support, and you begin to see now that you’re his.
Now you know it’s true what they say; you don’t have to beg for someone’s love if they truly cared about you, because Sae has always gone the extra mile for you every single day. You don’t have to act like someone you’re not just to please them so they don’t leave—because no matter how many disagreements you have, Sae is always there to listen to your point of view. You don’t have to beg someone to treat you right if they really love you, because Sae’s been actively choosing you ever since the day you got married, and whether it’s intentional or not, you think you’re the luckiest person in the world.
And now you can’t be happier; you have a wonderful daughter who has two parents who absolutely love her. You have a husband who takes care of you in every single way, loving you in every essence of the word. You have friends like Reo who would burn the world if it was ever unkind to you and dance with you atop their pile of bodies. You have everything you could ever want and you couldn’t have seen it without Sae by your side.
The do-over of your wedding reception is perfect. So, so perfect, and it’s almost hard to believe it’s the product of Sae’s ideas. He doesn’t even particularly like celebrations like this but he did this for you, for both of you, and being able to make your daughter be a part of it is like icing on the four-tiered cake he had ordered.
“I’ll love you forever, Y/N,” he whispers suddenly into your ear as you guys are making rounds at the tables.
You accept the kiss from him, flashes going off as you smile against his lips. “Yeah? What if it falls apart?” you ask, teasing him, though you never thought he’d answer you seriously.
“Then I’ll rebuild it,” he tells you, your lips hovering just above each other and his beautiful teal eyes looking into yours, a small smile on his face. “But with you, I’m pretty sure that would never happen.”
And you’ve always been pessimistic. You’ve always chosen to believe the worst because it alleviates the pain you’d feel when things don’t go as planned. But somehow, you believe in Sae with your whole heart. You’d trust him with your whole life. So you want to give him what he’s given you—everything. (He thinks you already have.)
“I’ll love you forever, Itoshi Sae.”
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asterias-record-shop · 1 year ago
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ok but like maybe stiles stilinski with a spoiled rich reader maybe who has vibes like lydia?¿? maybe w number 21 ?¿? possibly…
—𓆩[warmth]𓆪—
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omg, this is literally the longest fic I've ever written for this blog, I really hope you guys enjoy it!
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𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
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𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Stiles Stilinski x Fem! Rich! Vampire! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, maybe slight angst
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 6.0K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - No one expected you and Stiles to start dating. Come on, a rich vampire posing as a high school student who could’ve been a real life Cullen? Fuck no. But, it happened, and Stiles fucking loves you - and your fangs - probably more than he should, and he wants to try something.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - foul language and smut || I was forced to watch twilight and this is what happened I love it || kinda sub stiles || mentions of mates || scent glands || marking || mentions of Wattpad & fanfic || i got WAY too into this shit man- || stiles did research || biting kink || blood kink || multiple rounds || oral || face sitting || cum eating || creampie || unprotected sex ||
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“So, tell me again how this happened?” Coach was baffled as you sat in his class, your hand in Stiles’ as the topic interrupted your lesson in your economics class. “Like, the dating part. How the heck did you end up with her, Stilinski?!”
You cleared your throat, raising your hand. “I uhm… we’ve been dating for a while, Coach.”
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“Yeah, I know! I just didn’t believe it until I saw Stilinski trying to kiss you when he thought I wasn’t looking! Come on kid, you’re that desperate?!” Bobby groaned, pressing his face into his hands. “Why is it always the nice ones who get with the… the Stiles?”
You laughed. “I don’t know who you’ve talked to, Coach, but I am not nice.”
“Yeah, she’s not!” Scott said, twirling his pencil before you glared at him. “Nice. Sh-She’s not nice.”
“Oh, shut up, McCall! You’re just mad because Stiles likes hanging out more with me than you,” you stuck your tongue out at him, letting out a soft humph as you cross your legs under the desk. “And he’s mad I took his boyfriend too.”
“Y/N, we weren’t-”
“Hush darling, Scott and I are talking,” you say, smiling widely at him as you kiss his nose. “Thank you baby.”
“This isn’t happening,” Coach groaned into his hand before the bell rings, a giggle falling from your lips. “Right? This isn’t happening?”
“Oh it’s happening!” You laughed, standing as Stiles cleared his throat.
“Y/N, baby, I have practice today.” He said, Scott coming behind him and sticking his tongue out at you. “I’m sorry.”
You pouted, pretending to think. “Why don’t you just skip? I’ll buy the school new lacrosse gear.”
“I’m right here!” Coach yelled, but quickly got up. “I would be interested in new lacrosse gear though.”
“Yeah, see? Come on, let’s skip.”
“No! We have the quarter-finals this week, he can’t miss. Y/N, he can’t miss,” Scott turned to you, hoping that he could persuade you with those stupid puppy dog eyes. “Come on.”
“Oh I forgot about that,” coach mumbles, glaring at the wall. “Okay, he’s gotta come, but the school would like new lacrosse gear.”
“Here, how about this,” you say, shaking your head as you fix your skirt. “Stiles goes to practice and I’m on the field.”
Coach scoffed. “On the field? Doing what?”
“I don’t know,” you hummed, leaning on the table as you pulled Stiles closer. He followed obediently as you licked your teeth, humming. “Play lacrosse?”
Scott scoffed. “Play lacrosse?”
You tilted your head, crossing your legs. “What, like it’s hard?”
Coach starts to laugh, nodding. “Okay! Okay, you’ll be on the field! Stiles, lend your girlfriend some clothes, we’re getting new lacrosse gear!”
Coach walked out as you giggle, Stiles staring at your smile and the sharpened canines that he fucking loved to stare at.
Scott starts to walk out, pausing to look back at the two of you. “Stiles, you coming?” 
“I-In a minute, Scott,” he smiled back at his friend before looking at you who positioned yourself on the desk with crossed legs. “I’ll be there.”
He hummed as he walked out, Stiles letting his hands settle on your hips as you parted your legs so he could slot himself between them. “Hey, my darling.”
You giggled, pushing back his hair. “Hey, honey,” you whisper back, smiling as you nuzzle your nose against his with a soft sigh. “Do you… do you think I’m too mean to Scott?”
“You’re not mean,” he says, laughing. “You and him have like… an ancestral rivalry. He’ll get over it.”
You giggle, pulling him closer for another firm kiss, groaning as your tongue pushed into his mouth, your hand pulling his head back by tugging on his hair. He groaned loudly as your tongue circled around his, humming as your head pounded. You could hear his heart beating incredibly fast, his arteries pulsating, and by hell’s name, you could smell the horniness drifting off of his body, along with the smell of dog because of Scott.
Even newly turned, you could still control yourself with Stiles as of yet. You both had had sex a few times, more than a few actually, but that was before you were actually aware of his… human-ness. You were born a vampire, now in your final years of highschool as you aged regularly and your family was kept alive by blood bags supplied by the numerous hospitals your family owned.
Your instincts never got in the way because of how well fed you were, but this was different. You could feel everything; his heart, his arteries, his veins, fuck even his cock pulsating. Your heightened senses caught everything, groaning as you attempted to pull him closer, another loud groan falling from his lips as you pulled him closer, a choke filling your ears making you pull away, your fangs grazing his bottom lip making him hiss.
A shiver runs down your back as he lets out a soft groan, laughing slightly as he licks his lip. “You alright, Y/N?”
You hummed, not really paying attention to his words as you stared at his lip dripping with that delicious coppery liquid, leaning forward to lick against his lip and a loud groan left his mouth as you sucked on his lip, desperate for that taste. It was different though, his blood tasted sweet, unlike blood bags, animals, and even humans for fucks sake.
“Y-Y/N,” he whispered, groaning. “I-It kind of hurts.”
You gasped as you pulled away, staring at his slightly swollen bottom lip as he smiled down at you, pushing back your hair. “I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He shook his head, humming so that you would look at him. “Hey, Y/N, don’t worry about it,” he says, his smile growing as he leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to your lips. “I’ll be a blood bank for you any day.”
You inhale sharply, shaking your head. “Don’t say that. Y-You don’t know how dangerous that is.”
“Why?” He asked, tilting his head. “I know you can control yourself.”
You scoffed, pushing him back. “Did you not see what I just did? If you wouldn’t have said something, I would’ve kept going.”
“But I did say something,” he says, quickly stepping forward and holding your hips again. “Just because I said it hurt-ed, doesn’t mean I didn’t like it.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, shaking your head. “Hurt-ed?”
He hummed, nodding. “Hurted. It’s the past tense.”
You shook your head, laughing. “No it’s not, the past tense is still hurt.”
He rolled his eyes. “Not anymore, it’s hurted now.”
You giggle, shaking your head before sighing. “I’m gonna go write that check, okay? I… I think I’m gonna go home, too.”
His brows ruffled, quickly blocking you from jumping down. “Why?”
“Because it’s not safe for me to be around so many people,” you responded, humming as you quickly went around him. “Come to my house after school? We need to talk.”
He quickly caught your hand, one you could’ve easily avoided, but he shook his head. “Y-You’re not breaking up with me, right?”
You giggled, smiling sadly with a shake of your head. “Just meet me at my house, alright?”
He cleared his throat but nodded, inhaling deeply before slowly pulling you in for a soft kiss. “I love you, Y/N, I love you so much.”
You hummed softly, nodding. “I love you too, my darling.”
He swallowed as you walked out, pulling out your checkbook and writing a number with a lot of zeros on the main line before crossing out the rest, signing and doing the rest of the things before passing by Coach and pressing it to his chest. “Let me know if you need more, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow!”
“What? Where are you going?” He yelled out as you waved back at him.
“Have something to do at home! I’ll see you!” You yelled, looking back with a smile. “Good luck, Coach!”
He mumbled something as you walked out, quickly making your way back home and parking outside your secluded mansion that truly could’ve been out of the movie. It didn’t take you long to get up to your room, quickly getting caught by Kirshe, one of the vampire elders that your parents were friends with. “Y/N, are you alright?”
Of course she knew what you were feeling. “O-Oh, I’m fine,” you responded, humming with a slight smile. “Just some… relationship problems.”
She paused, her golden eyes trailing down your body before flashing a bright red. “He doesn���t know he’s your mate, does he?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Not only that, Kirshe.”
She hummed, taking a deep inhale. “And he’s human too, isn’t he?”
You inhaled deeply, nodding. “Taken in by a pack of dogs.”
Kirshe laughed. “Oh, it’s always the best of us, my love. He’s… why are there problems now?”
“I tasted his blood,” you giggled, shaking your head with a scoff. “It’s just like the stories describe it. Addicting, sweet… perfect.”
“Do you want to turn him?” She asked, making you shrug. “Does he want to be turned?”
“I don’t… I don’t know.”
Back at the school, Stiles was going crazy. “Do you think she’s going to break up with me?”
“She would never,” Scott responded, scoffing. “She’s too in love with you.”
“You’re just mad because you thought she was hot,” Stiles grinned, putting on a shirt that hadn’t been near Scott. He knew how much you hated the smell of wolves. “Right?”
“Oh shut up,” Scott scoffed, shaking his head. “Where did she go anyways?”
“Home.” Stiles said, humming. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I can smell how horny you are.”
Stiles laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I uhm… we were making out earlier. She was… sucking on my lip after it started bleeding.”
Scott froze, quickly looking at him. “What?”
“You’re overreacting so much,” Stiles said, shrugging. “We’ve had sex before.”
“But she’s never sucked your blood, right?”
Stiles could feel his cheeks heat up, about to say something before Scott groaned loudly. “Dude, the smell got stronger! Holy shit, does that turn you on?!”
“Fuck yeah it does!” Stiles said, thankful the two of them were the only ones in the locker room. “Dude, when we like, get heated, she runs her fangs along my neck, holy shit, it’s so hot.”
“And you want her to suck your blood?” Scott paused, staring at him. “You want her to turn you?”
Stiles paused, staring down at his bag before inhaling deeply. Is this what Bella Swan was feeling when she was with Edward Cullen?
“I want to be with her for the rest of my life,” Stiles said, grabbing his bag before smiling at Scott. “If it’s this one or one hundred, I don’t care. I want her, forever.”
Scott inhaled deeply before sighing, shaking his head with a slight smile. “You’re really in love with her, aren’t you?”
Stiles smiled, all sarcasm gone. “Yeah, I am.”
“What about your dad?” Scott asked the inevitable question, inhaling deeply. “I-I’m not trying to like… ruin anything, but if you get turned… what are you going to do to him?”
Stiles smiled, shrugging. “He’ll be my dad. Always. What he wants to do is up to him.”
After that, he waved goodbye and quickly drove to your house, way over the speed limit to get there faster. As soon as he pulled up, he smiled when he saw you on your balcony, staring at him like you knew he was coming - which you probably did.
He quickly got out, waving up at you as you giggled. Normally your family was there to greet him, but they were obviously gone as he walked inside and up to your room.
He doesn’t knock, mainly because there was no point, slowly walking behind you as you stood on your balcony. His arms go to wrap around your waist, leaning onto your body as he pressed soft kisses to your neck, your hand going to hold his jaw as you exhaled deeply. “How was practice?”
“Good,” he mumbled, shrugging. “Missed you. I changed into something that I hope doesn’t smell like Scott.”
You giggle, nodding. “And it doesn’t, thank you.”
“So uhm…” he whispered, humming against your neck as you moved your hands to settle over his. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Well, you read up on vampires when you met me, right?” You hummed, smiling as he nodded into your neck. “Did you get to the part about mates?”
He paused, his hands tightening around your waist. Did you find your mate? He had read up about them, but never really retained the information because no one ever spoke of them, but obviously for pure blooded vampires like your family, of course they existed.
“I-I… I did,” he whispers, pulling you closer. “There wasn’t much about how it works for bloodborne vampires.”
“Would you like for me to tell you how it works?” You asked, smiling up at him.
“Wh-Why would you tell me if I’m not your mate?” Stiles whispered, slight annoyance in his voice before you started laughing. “What?”
“Stiles, you’re so lucky you’re hot,” you turned in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re my mate.”
He paused, staring down at you blankly. He was your mate? Why?
When you started laughing, he realized he must’ve said it out loud, your hands cupping his face. “Why not? I think it’s fitting, don’t you?”
“Th-That’s not what I meant,” he didn’t mean to stutter, it always happened around you though. He groaned loudly as your fingers dragged down his neck, sparks following your touch as you smiled up at him. “I meant like… how are we mates?”
You paused, pursing your lips. “Kirshe said mates are decided by the gods where in past lives their love ‘changed the fate of the world’,” you mumbled, inhaling deeply as you stroked his hair. “Do you think we could’ve changed the fate of the world, Stiles? In our past lives?”
He inhaled deeply, nodding as he leaned his forehead down against yours. “I know we could’ve,” he whispered back, pressing his lips softly against yours. “Because I love you more than anything else in the world.”
You smiled widely, letting out a loud laugh as he picked you up and turned the both of you around to go back into your bedroom. He slowly laid you in the bed, crawling over your body and laying down next to you to pull you into his chest. You sighed heavily against his chest, stroking his shirt before pulling it down slightly to see his exposed skin. You could hear his heart beating, his valves and ventricles pumping, his lungs inhaling and exhaling, his diaphragm expanding and deflating - fuck, at this point, you hated that he was human at this point.
“Y/N?”
You hummed, looking up at him as your fingers trail over his exposed collarbone. “Yes, my love?”
“I-I was wondering… if you could uhm… turn me. Like, actually turn me… into a vampire like you,” Stiles said as you started to sit up, staring at your face pinched up as you inhaled and exhaled deeply. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”
“Stiles, why do you want to be a vampire?” You asked, staring at him like he was crazy. “You would watch the people you love die over and over again. You have the choice to grow old and-”
“And what about you?” He whispered, taking your hand in his. Besides his dad and Scott, you were the only person alive right now that he cared for, especially after he was impacted by Void. You stuck with him even after that, how could he let you go now? “You would watch me grow old and wait for me to be born again? Huh?”
“That’s not what I meant, Stiles-”
“I want to be with you,” the brunette filled in, staring at you with those whiskey colored eyes. “For the rest of my life, and I want it to be where you don’t have to watch me die in the end. I want to spend… the rest of my life young with you.”
“But in turning you, I’d watch you die too,” you whispered, inhaling deeply as your eyes watered. You had thought about this before, turning him, but then you thought about what he would go through. You were the first bloodborne vampire ever recorded, because of course the Court took note of every vampire turned, but you were the first one born of two Elders who didn’t think they could get pregnant. You knew what vampires went through when they’re turned, but what would Stiles go through? Turned by a bloodborne who was their mate? “You have to die to become a vampire, Stiles. I would have to kill you.”
“Then kill me.” He sat up, holding your face in his hands as he smiled at you. “I’ve died before, what's another time?”
“Not like this, Stiles,” you whisper, gasping as he wiped the tears from falling down your cheeks, leaning forward to kiss against your skin. “The turning of a mate isn’t something that just happens. It takes days, months, rituals, I have to mark you, we have to be married for fucks sake-!”
You couldn’t finish, gasping as he pressed his lips to yours, pulling you into his lap with a loud groan. “Well then mark me. That’s the start, right?”
You gaped at him, his stupid smile as he stared at you. “You know that means I have to bite you, right?”
“Yeah, it’s like those werewolf stories on Wattpad.”
“You were on Wattpad?”
“It was a dare, moving along. Does it like stay a bite mark or does it like turn into a tattoo?”
“I don’t know, a bloodborne has never marked anyone before,” you say, but your eyes narrow at him. “The hell are you reading where it turns into a tattoo?”
“I don’t know, it turns into their initials,” he shrugged, but paused. “Do I get to mark you too?”
“You want to mark me?” You say, smiling with a slight bounce making him hold back a grunt. “You can mark me right now.”
He smirked, staring at you as you slipped off your shirt to expose your shoulder. “Didn’t you say there’s a process?”
“Not for marking,” you respond, but pause. “But if you mark me, we have to get married soon, because I have to turn you in the span of a few months. Or maybe not because I'm bloodborne, so it could be different.”
“What if I don’t get turned?”
“You turn into a lust crazed monster until I do turn you, but it’s more lethal because since you’re so obsessed with sex, your mind doesn’t process the turn until your body is on fire. Well, it feels like it’s on fire.”
He pursed his lips. “So for the rest of eternity we’re just going to be a rich family hidden in the woods? Like the Cullens?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re just gonna ignore the fact that you’ll turn into a lust crazed monster?”
He grinned. “Well, who am I lusting for? You, right?”
“Well yeah, you have my blood in your veins, so of course you lust after me.”
“I see no problem in that.” He responds, ignoring the fact that his body might not register the turn.
You laughed, shaking your head as you pulled his hands to your back to unclasp your bra. “Well, you want to get this mating thing started, don’t you?” Your fingers move to trail down his chest after he unclasped your bra, your skin cold to the touch until his warm hands flattened against your back. “When you first bite, it’ll taste odd until that zing runs up your back. Then, I’ll tell you when to stop, alright? As soon as you stop, your mind might get kind of hazy and you’ll probably be really horny, alright?”
He laughed. “More horny than I am now? Impossible.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, tugging on the hem of his shirt to pull it off. Immediately, he pulls away and raises his arms for you to take off his shirt, your eyes staring at his mole covered chest. You inhale shakily as you finally meet his eyes, your hands pressed against his warm chest as he pushed his face into your neck, pressing firm kisses to your neck as you pulled him closer before kissing his ear. 
“Are you sure you want this, Stiles?” You whisper, holding his face as you pull away. “It doesn’t have to happen now.”
He smiled up at you, shaking his head as he continued to press kisses to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. “For the rest of eternity, remember?”
You smile, inhaling deeply as his tongue flattened against your neck making you lean your head to the side.
“Where do I bite?”
“Anywhere,” you mumbled, your mind hazy as you inhaled the smell that was so uniquely him, whiskey and mountain air combined with pine that made you walk straight toward him when you moved to town. “Anywhere you want.”
He pauses, pulling away to tilt his head up at you. “So it doesn’t have to be on your neck like in the stories?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Of course not. Anywhere you bite, like you said, it turns into initials surrounded by a slight imprint of your bite.” 
He pauses, letting his eyes trail over your bare torso as he slowly moves so that you were actually seated in his lap. “Can I do it…” he lets his eyes trail over your skin, humming as he pressed a soft kiss to the space of skin a little lower to where the end of your clavicle was. “Here?”
“Why there?”
“Because,” he whispered, his eyes almost darkening as he let his tongue flatten against your skin, getting it wet with his spit as you groaned, tilting your head back. Your hips automatically roll into his, a loud groan falling from his mouth as he pulls away for a minute. “You gotta show it off, don’t you? Gets you to wear those low cut shirts I fuckin’ love.”
You gasped as his teeth finally sunk into your skin, your body basically on fire as he groaned against your skin. Like you said, it tasted weird at first, coppery and tangy until it flooded his mouth, the smell of the perfume you wore that he learned wasn’t actually perfume shifting into taste instead of the layers of smell you always smelled like. It was sweet and fruity, like strawberries and cherries with sweet cream and that white angel cake, tangy from the berries and sweet from the pastries.
Fuck, it tasted so good. His teeth were deep in your skin, the only cooling part of your body where his teeth sank and drew blood, his hot body making yours feel even hotter.
You could feel your mind get hazy, your eyes rolling back as he tried to suck harder, a loud groan falling from his lips as his hands pawed at your ass, your hips rutting into his almost automatically before you tugged on his hair. “St-Sti, not too much, you could get sick.”
He basically whined, only pulling away by the tug of his hair before licking over the bite mark left on your skin. He panted, watching it as though it would change into the black tattoo-ink like color he was truly expecting it to turn in an instant.
You giggled, quickly catching his jaw before pulling him up to look at you. “It’s not going to happen until I mark you first, my love.”
He stared up at you, eyes a dark chocolate color, lips slightly stained and his tongue tinted a darker red. “Oh.”
You giggle, leaning down to press firm kisses to his skin, never stopping your firm thrusts of your clothed hips against his own, tongue trailing around his skin scattered with moles. “Where do you want it, baby?”
“Where everyone can see,” his hands were shaking from excitement, the taste of your blood sending electricity through his body, tongue flattening against your shoulder and holding back the urge to sink his teeth in again. “Wherever you want it to be, as long as it’s on show.”
“So…” you whisper, letting your tongue trail down the side of his jaw, pushing against the moles under his ear. “Like, here? Or… lower?”
“A-A little lower, please,” he whispered, words breathy as he focused on your hips rolling into his, hard and your hot cunt sliding against his hard cock. He could feel your wetness through your shorts and his jeans, hissing as you leaned forward and kept your hips there, releasing your weight just a bit to keep his cock slotted between your folds. “Fuck, please.”
You hummed, your tongue flattening on the pulse filling your ears until going to the side of his neck. “Here?”
“Mhm,” he merely hummed, nodding into your neck as his hands shakily grabbed your hips. “D-Don’t stop your moving hips, please.”
You giggle, your eyesight basically blurring as you stare at his neck, that one mole catching your eye before you inhaled deeply and felt your canines extend, a comical shing filling the room as you sunk your teeth into his skin. You could barely focus on his cock rubbing against your clothed cunt, one of his hands slipping in between you both to tug your shorts and underwear to the side, pushing his fingers into your leaking cunt and his fingers thrusting into your cunt. You were so tight, so so tight and wet, two of his fingers easily pushing into you and rolling his fingers inside of you.
You were so distracted with the taste of his blood, pushing in and out, in and out, but it was nothing compared to how good he tasted. He tasted like caramel, underlying with nutty butterscotch and whiskey, maybe a slight bit of salt that balanced everything out. You groaned loudly, eyes flying open as he pulled his finger out, the sound of him unbuttoning his pants and unzipping them to pull his cock out of his boxers and push his tip into you making you moan loudly against his skin.
Oh it was almost as though you couldn’t stop, your head pounding as you felt his veins pumping and heart beating, a soft gasp making you pull away, cursing. Was it too much? Did you take too much from him?
“Why did you stop?” He whispered, staring up at you with hazy eyes. “I liked it. I-I loved it. It felt like lightning-”
“Stiles.”
“L-Like lightning was traveling down my spine and filling my veins-”
“Stiles.”
He paused, staring up at you as you looked down at your skin, smiling when you saw the initials MS surrounded by the faded gray bite mark. “Mieczysław. Fuck, I love that name, I love your name.”
“I love you,” he whispers back, smiling as you giggled down at him, his face pressing against your skin before kissing his initials. “I love you so much.”
You smile as he slowly pushes you onto your back, his eyes a dark chocolate brown as he pulls out just for a minute, pulling off his pants after kicking off his shoes and tugging down your shorts and pretty panties. Your eyes rolled back as he flattened his tongue against your wet slit, flicking his tongue against your puffed up clit before sitting back on his feet and pumping his cock. You could see his cock covered in cum, inhaling deeply as you looked over at his discarded boxers, a splatter of cum making you giggle.
“I made you cum in your pants, Mieczysław?”
He groaned as he pushed back into you, staring at the creamy ring he started to leave around your entrance that kept sucking him farther and farther into you. He groaned, his mind fully attentive to your cunt basically swallowing his length, whimpers and squirming finally starting when he left the last few inches. His eyes flickered up to your face, a groan falling from his lips as he saw his initials on your skin, your face pinched in pleasure and eyes rolling back as he thrusted into you sharply to watch that creamy ring settle on his base and your hands flying to his forearms.
“Fuck, fuck Stiles!”
He shook his head, holding your hips with a grunt. “No baby, call me by my real name,” he said, cursing softly as he started to thrust his hips, watching your body bounce with each thrust, your tits moving and his eyes trained on the mark he made. You were right, he was so fucking addicted to the feeling of you around his cock, more lightning traveling up his spine as your nails dug into his forearm, blood making your eyes flash red. “You always say it so fucking nice.”
He watched you groan loudly, moving so his chest pressed against yours and moving his arms to support him. He watched your mouth move to his forearms, your tongue flattening against his skin and licking up all of the blood, his mouth moving to your head to press kisses against your hair, groans falling from his mouth with each thrust before you moved to stare up at him, pulling him down to kiss him, that same coppery tang disappearing and fading into the same whiskey flavor you had been addicted to.
“Mieczysław,” you whispered, gasping as his thrusts got faster, whining as his hand pushed down to circle against your clit torturously before his other hand gripped your thigh, digging his nails so deep into your skin he drew blood. “F-Fuck!”
He groaned as he pushed his fingertips against your skin, covering them with that crimson liquid before pushing them into his mouth and slamming into you one last time to cum inside of you, the gushing of his cum making you cum from the almost inflation like feeling. It didn’t take you long to push him over, though, staring at his already healed forearm. You smiled as you began to roll your hips, desperate as his tip kissed your cervix, pushing deeper and deeper at this new angle as you moaned loudly, holding his chest and staring down at the mark with your own initials on his skin.
It fueled your movements, staring down at the cum smearing along his pelvis, whimpering as you bounced on his length. “Please, please, fuck!”
“You need my help, don’t you?” He teased, lifting his hips to roll into you at the same time you pushed down, your eyes rolling back as he pushed even deeper inside of you - something you truly didn’t think could happen. “Right?”
“Yes! Yes, yes!” You pleaded, gasping as he forced his hips up into you, thrusting over and over again at the same speed you were bouncing on his cock with even more force than you could ever imagine. You were so lost in pleasure, his warm hands holding your hips as you tried to stay sitting up, your body finally registering the fresh human blood in your veins. It had been a while since you had anything other than bagged blood or animal blood, and as a result, your high was gone and inevitably coming down until he slammed his hips up into you, your eyes rolling back as the knot in your stomach snapped and a loud moan of his name - his real name - left your mouth.
He groaned underneath you, his cum gushing out of your cunt as you slowly got off, staring at his still hard cock. You giggle, smiling as you pumped his cock and licked the cum sliding down his shaft, groaning as he bucked his hips up into your mouth. You kept it in your mouth, moaning loudly as you bobbed your head, pumping what you couldn’t fit in your mouth and staring at his face.
You didn’t register his human features, not anymore, his blood pumping and his lungs filling with air or exhaling air, only the fact that the cum on his cock tasted so fucking delicious and your fingers cupping and squeezing his balls which made his hips buck and you pull back to feel his cum flood your mouth. You groaned, sucking on his pretty tip and your hand fisting his cock, swallowing the salty liquid before pulling away.
Your mind was full of lust as you slowly crawled up his body, his hands immediately catching your hips as you hovered over his face. His eyes were hazy with lust as you grinned down at him. "You're such a good boy, honey. I think you deserve a treat."
He groaned loudly as you slowly released your weight, holding the sides of his head as his hands hold your thighs, your hips rolling into his mouth as his tongue pushed into your cunt, basically pulling all of the cum from your pussy, your eyes rolling back as one of his hands pushed between your thighs and straight into your cunt.
His flexing fingers guided the rolls of your hips, moans falling from your lips as you attempted to cover your mouth before a finger pressed to your clit and his teeth grazed your pussy. You whined loudly, your stomach twisting as you attempted to chase that high, his fingers pushing into you to press against that place that made your stomach go tight and your eyes roll back, curses falling from your lips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Mieczysław!”
He hummed against your cunt, the vibrations making you shiver as he slowly lifted you from his face and push you down so you sat on his cock. He slowly pushed into you, a shiver going down your back as he held your face, pulling you up for a firm kiss. “I love you.”
“I love you, Mieczysław,” you whisper back, smiling as his lips quirked up into a smile of his own, sighing heavily. “Do you feel okay?”
“Yeah, I feel great,” he smiled, shrugging. “Really horny.”
You laughed, nodding. “We can keep going,” you whisper, smiling as you lay against his warm chest. “Just… let me lay here in your warmth for a minute.”
“Will you miss it?” He whispers, stroking your cheek as he stares down at you. “M-My warmth.”
You inhale deeply, nodding as your hand rubbed against his chest where his heart was, the beating already slowing down. “Yeah, I will,” you shrug though, giggling. “But we’re the first of our kind, my love. I’m hoping you’ll keep it.”
“Then I do too.”
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omg, I love fulfilling requests ♡ keep them coming for Bingo!!
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