#i had to skip to the closing bit even though i wanted to finish the whole thing tonight </3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mcrdvcks · 6 months ago

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i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1943 - wounds and whispers

chapter summary: After an attack on the battlefield, Logan wakes up to you as his nurse in Italy during World War 2.

word count: 8.8k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this one is short, and the ending is a bit abrupt, but i kind of wanted it to be that way- war is unpredictable. also, the ending is a tad bit different from the other endings, you'll see when you read! anyways, next chapter is when things get a little bit more interesting...

warnings/tags: mentions of injuries, fluff, angst, war, character death(s)

series masterlist - chapter 3 → chapter 5

A mere 43 years later and Logan was already in his second war since you died that last time. Part of him almost wished that he could die, maybe then he’d see you and get to hold you forever. But that just wasn’t in the cards for him; not when he had this healing, not when he was already 111 years old.

Logan's mind was swimming in a fog of pain as consciousness crept back in. The last thing he remembered was the deafening blast of gunfire and the sharp, searing pain that tore through his side as he charged forward in the midst of the chaos. War was hell, and he’d been through more than enough of them to know that. But this—this felt different.

His eyes fluttered open, the bright lights overhead blinding him for a moment as he groaned, trying to push himself up. His muscles screamed in protest, his entire body feeling like it had been torn apart and put back together again.

“Easy there, soldier.”

The voice was soft but firm, and it froze him in place. Logan’s heart skipped a beat, recognition flooding through him even though he knew it wasn’t possible. His vision focused, and then he saw you. Standing right over him, your face illuminated by the dim lights of the field hospital.

It was you.

Logan’s breath hitched, his mind spinning. He’d seen you die—he’d held you in his arms not long before everything faded. The memory of that night, the pain in your eyes, the blood pooling beneath you—it was burned into him. He’d lost you again. But now here you were, alive, standing in front of him like nothing had ever happened.

His throat tightened, but he forced himself to speak. “Y/N?” You probably didn’t hear him, given the quiet tone of his voice.

You smiled softly, stepping closer to him, your hands working with practiced care to check his wounds. “You’re lucky, you know,” you said, ignoring the way he looked at you, as if he'd seen a ghost. “The shrapnel didn’t hit anything vital. You’ll live.”

Logan swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving yours. He felt a pull, the same pull he’d felt every time he met you in a different life. But this time, it hurt even more. Because this was the first time he’d seen you since the last time you died, and now, here you were, again, as if the universe had decided to toy with him once more.

“Y/N…” he whispered again, his voice rough with emotion.

You glanced at him, your brows knitting together in confusion. “How do you know my name?”

Logan hesitated, his heart pounding. He couldn’t tell you—not yet. Not about the lives you’d lived before, not about the times he’d watched you die. He had to keep it together. You didn’t remember him, and that was both a blessing and a curse.

He cleared his throat, managing a tight smile. “Lucky guess,” he said, his voice strained, trying to mask the tidal wave of emotion crashing through him.

You gave him a curious look but didn’t press further. “Well, lucky or not, you should be more careful out there,” you said, turning your attention back to bandaging him up. “You’re not invincible, even if you act like it.”

Logan nearly chuckled at that. If only you knew. But instead, he gritted his teeth as you finished patching him up. The pain from the wound was nothing compared to the ache in his chest. He’d spent so many lifetimes with you, always losing you too soon. Always feeling like there wasn’t enough time.

And now, here you were again, standing so close to him, your hands gentle as you worked. He clenched his jaw, his mind racing with memories of you—of your smile, your laugh, the way you’d always found him, no matter the time or place.

But this wasn’t the past. This was 1943, and you didn’t know him. He had to play it cool, keep his distance, even though every instinct in him was screaming to reach out and hold you, to make sure you didn’t slip away again.

“Thanks,” he muttered, trying to keep his voice steady.

You gave him a small nod, satisfied with your work. “Well, you’re still not cleared to leave yet, so you’re not gonna get away from me that easily.” You grabbed a small flashlight from your pocket and leaned in a little closer, shining it into his eyes to check his pupils.

Logan grunted, feeling the warmth of your proximity. It was almost unbearable how familiar you felt, even though you didn’t know him—at least not in this lifetime. His eyes followed your movements, the way you focused on him like he was just another soldier you had to patch up. But to him, you were everything.

“You know,” you started, your voice calm but a little teasing, “you really shouldn’t be throwing yourself into the line of fire like that. Kinda hard for us to patch you up if you don’t have any parts left.”

Logan gave a low chuckle, though his heart wasn’t in it. “I’ll heal,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. His voice was rougher than usual, like the words were struggling to get past the weight of seeing you again, alive and breathing.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Heal, huh? Well, you’re not invincible, soldier. Trust me, I’ve seen men think they’re untouchable, and they don’t last long in a place like this.”

Logan looked away, trying to focus on anything other than the sound of your voice. He didn’t want to make this harder on himself than it already was. “Guess I’ll just have to be more careful, then.”

You chuckled softly, finishing your check-up and tucking the flashlight back into your pocket. “Yeah, you do that.” There was a hint of amusement in your tone, but you were still clearly all business. “Now,” you looked at a clipboard in your hands, “James, you have a different name you’d like to go by?”

Logan grunted, his gaze fixed on you. The name ‘James’ felt foreign now, like a remnant of a past he didn't quite belong to anymore. His eyes flickered to the clipboard, then back to your face. The memories of every life you'd lived flashed through his mind, each one ending the same way, with you slipping away from him.

“Logan,” he said, his voice a bit rougher than he intended.

You looked up, scribbling something down. “Logan, huh?” You nodded, writing it down. “Suits you better than James… I think.”

Logan gave a small grunt, a mix of acknowledgment and the emotions he was keeping buried. He couldn’t tell you how much it hurt hearing you say his name, knowing you didn’t remember him at all. Every time he heard your voice, it was like a punch to the gut—a reminder that no matter how many times you came back, he was always starting over, and you… you were always slipping away.

“Glad you approve,” Logan muttered, his eyes drifting away from you. He was trying hard not to stare, trying not to let the overwhelming rush of memories take over. You looked the same, almost exactly as you had the last time—before George pulled that damn trigger.

You didn’t seem to notice the tension radiating from him, too focused on the task at hand. “Well, Logan,” you said, setting the clipboard aside. “You’ll need to stay here for observation, at least for the night. Make sure your body’s handling the recovery properly. We’ve seen some soldiers who think they’re fine, and then—” You made a gesture, mimicking someone fainting, a half-smile tugging at your lips.

Logan’s eyes flicked to the floor, suppressing the mix of emotions threatening to boil over. That small smile—the one you always had, no matter how many lives you lived—was painfully familiar. Each time, the same softness, the same warmth. But this time, it cut deeper because he knew how this would end. You’d be gone. Again.

“You’re real good at this, aren’t ya?” Logan said, his voice low, trying to sound casual despite the weight of everything between you two, or at least, everything he carried alone.

You shrugged, your smile widening just a little. “I’ve had a lot of practice lately. War isn’t exactly kind to anyone.” Your eyes softened for a moment, like you were remembering someone, but you shook it off, standing straighter. “But, yeah. It’s what I do.”

Logan’s jaw tightened as he fought the urge to tell you everything, to scream at the universe for pulling you into his life only to tear you away. But he couldn’t. Not this time. He had to play along, had to act like this was the first time he’d ever met you.

He nodded, letting out a deep breath. “Guess we’re both used to it, then. War and all.”

You glanced at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “Yeah?” There was a pause as you sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. “You seem… different from the other soldiers I’ve patched up. Seen a lot, huh?”

Logan leaned back slightly, his hand brushing against the place where the ring still rested in his pocket. He hadn’t taken it out in years. “More than you’d believe.”

There was a quiet moment between you, your gaze lingering on him as if trying to figure him out. “Well,” you said, breaking the silence, “let’s hope you don’t add anything else to that list while you’re here.”

Logan couldn’t help the bitter chuckle that escaped his throat. If only you knew what was on that list already. If only he could tell you how many times he’d seen you die, how many times he’d watched your life slip through his fingers. But instead, he just nodded again.

“I’ll try,” he muttered, though the words felt hollow.

As you stood up, preparing to check on the next patient, you paused, glancing back at him. There was something in your eyes, something almost familiar. But then, you smiled again—kind, unaware of the history Logan held with you—and walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Logan exhaled slowly, the ache in his chest growing heavier. He had to stay strong, had to keep his distance. But deep down, he knew he was already caught, already tangled in the same painful cycle.

He slipped his hand into his pocket, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the engagement ring he’d never had the chance to give you.

Maybe this time, he thought. Maybe this time, you’d survive.

But Logan knew better than to hope.

---

You checked in with one of the doctors when Sandra, your friend and fellow nurse, put a hand on your shoulder and turned you to face her.

“Does he have a nice voice?”

You snorted, shaking your head at Sandra. "A nice voice? That’s what you want to ask?”

Sandra grinned, unbothered by your sarcasm. “Well, I saw the way you were looking at him. Thought maybe he had some mysterious, deep, soldier-thing going on.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a clipboard from the nearby desk. “He’s just a patient, Sandra.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Sandra leaned in, lowering her voice. “You didn’t exactly hurry out of that room.”

You shot her a look. “I was doing my job.”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed, clearly not buying it. “So... does he?”

You sighed, unable to stop a small smile from creeping onto your face. “Yeah, okay. Maybe a little. He’s got that gruff, low thing going on.”

“I knew it!” Sandra nudged your shoulder, her expression smug. “You’re into the mysterious types.”

“Oh, come on,” you muttered, flipping through the papers on your clipboard, though none of it really held your focus. Your mind drifted back to Logan’s face—his eyes, the way he carried himself like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. There was something about him, something that felt... familiar. But you brushed it off. That wasn’t possible.

“I’m not into anyone,” you said quickly, snapping back to reality. “Especially not a guy I’ve known for like five minutes.”

Sandra raised her hands in surrender, smirking. “Alright, alright. I’ll drop it.” But the teasing gleam in her eyes suggested she wasn’t done with the subject.

You gave her a half-hearted glare before heading off to check on another patient. But as much as you tried to focus, your thoughts kept drifting back to Logan. The way his voice had this gravelly edge to it, how it felt like he was holding something back every time he spoke. And then there was the way he looked at you—like he recognized you, like you were someone important.

But that couldn’t be right.

---

You came to check on Logan later that night before you’d head back to your quarters for some rest. The makeshift hospital was quieter now, just a few murmurs from patients in the distance. Your shift had been long, draining, but something about checking on Logan felt... different.

You pushed the door open, stepping into the dimly lit room. Logan was sitting up on the bed, his expression unreadable as he stared at the floor. His posture was tense, like he was carrying the weight of more than just a few injuries.

“How’re you feeling?” you asked softly, keeping your tone professional despite the strange pull you felt toward him.

Logan looked up at you, his eyes locking onto yours for a moment that seemed to stretch longer than it should. “Better. You know, thanks to you.”

You gave a small smile, stepping closer to the bed. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, his gaze drifting back to the floor. “Still, you’re good at it.”

There was that same heaviness in his voice, like he was holding back more than just gratitude. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something about him felt... familiar. It was strange, like you knew him somehow, but you brushed the thought away.

“You should get some rest,” you said, checking the bandage on his side. Your fingertips lingered on the spot where the bloody wound had been earlier, but there was nothing—just smooth skin, as if it had never been there at all. Your brow furrowed, lips parting slightly in disbelief. You’d seen the gash when they’d brought him in, deep and ugly, impossible to heal so quickly.

Logan’s muscles tensed under your touch, and when you glanced at him, his expression was guarded, like he was bracing for something.

"That’s... impossible," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. "It was bad earlier. There should at least be... a scar."

Logan shrugged, trying to act indifferent, but the movement was stiff. "Guess I got lucky."

You pulled your hand back slowly, still frowning. “Lucky doesn’t cover it. I’ve never seen anyone heal like that.” You tilted your head, curiosity edging into your voice. “How?”

His jaw tightened. "It happens."

“That’s not much of an answer.” Your arms crossed over your chest, and the edge in your tone softened just a bit. “You’ve got to admit it’s... weird.”

Logan gave you a look, one that made you feel like he was sizing you up, trying to figure out how much he could say. Or maybe how little. "Weird, yeah," he muttered, voice low. "Not much I can do about it, though."

You knew a deflection when you heard one, but you let it go—for now. You weren’t sure why you felt compelled to trust him, but there was something in his eyes, in the way he spoke, that made it impossible not to.

Sitting down on the edge of his bed, you shook your head with a faint smile. "Well, however it happened, you’re lucky I didn’t call the doctors in to see this miracle." You gave him a teasing look. “You’d be their new favorite science project.”

A ghost of a grin tugged at the corner of Logan’s mouth, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, I’d rather avoid that."

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence. It should have been awkward, but it wasn’t. There was something strangely easy about being near him, like you’d known each other for years. You glanced at his hands—rough, calloused, like they’d seen more battles than you could imagine—and wondered just how much he’d been through.

"Why do I feel like there’s more to you than you’re letting on?" you asked softly.

Logan’s gaze flicked to yours, something unreadable in his expression. "You ever meet someone and feel like you’ve known ’em before?"

His words struck a nerve, sending a chill down your spine. You swallowed, the strange familiarity between you two suddenly harder to ignore. "Yeah... I guess I have."

Logan nodded, his gaze dropping to his hands. He rubbed his thumb against the curve of his knuckle—a nervous habit, maybe. Or just old memories surfacing.

"You should get some rest," you said quietly, almost reluctantly. It felt wrong to leave, like there was more to say, even if you didn’t know what.

"I’m not good at rest," Logan admitted, voice low.

You gave a soft laugh. "No one is these days."

As you stood up, Logan’s hand moved slightly—just enough that the tips of his fingers brushed yours, barely a touch but enough to make your heart skip. You looked down at him, surprised by how natural it felt, like you’d been standing this close to him a thousand times before.

For a moment, it seemed like Logan might say something—something important. His hand hovered near his pocket, where a small, heavy object pressed against the fabric. But then he stopped himself, his jaw clenching as if he’d changed his mind at the last second.

"Goodnight," you whispered, your voice softer than before.

Logan gave you a short nod, but his eyes followed you as you stepped away, like he was memorizing the moment—like it might slip away from him if he looked away for even a second.

---

The next morning, when you went to check on Logan, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, buttoning up his shirt over his white beater.

“Hey—wait.” You stepped in front of Logan, your hands instinctively finding his forearm as he finished buttoning his shirt. “You’re not cleared to leave yet.”

Logan’s eyes flicked to yours, and for a moment, something passed between you—like the echo of a memory, distant but familiar. He gave you a half-smile, the kind that looked more like a grimace, and kept working on the last button.

“Gotta go,” he muttered. “Don’t do well sittin’ still.”

You crossed your arms, not budging. “Doesn’t mean you get to walk out of here half-healed.”

His gaze darkened, jaw clenching as if biting back words. You could tell he didn’t like being told what to do, but there was something more in his expression—something haunted, buried beneath that tough exterior.

“You think I can’t handle it?” he asked, voice low, gravelly.

“It’s not about what you can handle.” Your eyes softened, a hint of frustration slipping through. “It’s about what’s smart. I’ve patched up enough soldiers to know that leavin’ too soon isn’t.”

Logan’s lips twitched, like he might argue, but then he stilled, studying you with a strange intensity. The weight of his stare made your breath hitch for a second, but you refused to back down.

“Stay,” you insisted. “At least for another day. Let the wound close properly.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, like it was more trouble than it was worth to argue with you. “You always this stubborn?”

A smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah. Part of the charm.”

Logan huffed, a reluctant laugh buried somewhere in the sound. He leaned forward slightly, his knees brushing yours where you stood between his legs. The air felt heavier—charged with something neither of you could quite name.

“Y/N...” The way your name left his mouth was different. Familiar, almost reverent, like he was tasting the sound of it after a long time.

Your heart stuttered in your chest. “What?”

Logan’s hand drifted toward his pocket, hesitating just for a beat. He seemed to think better of it and instead leaned back, propping himself on his palms like he was trying to keep his distance.

“Nothing.” His tone was gruff, evasive, but you knew there was more he wasn’t saying.

You stayed where you were, close enough to feel the warmth of him. “You’re not really going to leave, are you?”

Logan’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Shouldn’t stick around too long.”

“Why not?”

He ran a hand through his dark hair, frustrated. “I just shouldn’t.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, like they carried the weight of something unsaid—something important. But before you could push further, Logan shifted on the bed, brushing past you as if putting space between you would make it easier.

“Look...” His voice softened just slightly, almost apologetic. “You shouldn’t worry about me. I’ve been through worse.”

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean you have to go through this alone.”

Logan’s gaze flicked to yours, and for a moment, the walls he kept up seemed to crack, just a little. He looked at you like you were someone he wanted to hold onto, but couldn’t—like you’d slip through his fingers if he let himself get too close.

You leaned in just a bit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Let me help, Logan.”

The way his name fell from your lips sent a flicker of something through him—something dangerous, vulnerable, like it meant too much. His breath hitched, and for a second, you thought he might tell you whatever he was holding back.

But instead, he gave you a tight smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You already have.”

It felt like the conversation was teetering on the edge of something, but neither of you were ready to tip it over just yet.

“You win,” he muttered finally, his tone rough but resigned. “I’ll stay... one more day.”

You grinned, victorious. “Good. I’ll hold you to that. Maybe I’ll even let ya accompany me to the mess tent for lunch.” You held up a finger, playful but firm. “But only if you’re good.”

Logan gave a soft huff, the closest thing to a laugh you’d gotten out of him all day. “You makin’ the rules now?”

“That’s right,” you said with a smirk. “I am the nurse, after all.”

He shook his head, amused despite himself. “Fair enough.”

You lingered a moment longer than necessary, and Logan didn’t move away. His hand twitched near his knee, like he was thinking about reaching for you. It wasn’t the kind of gesture that strangers made—it felt too familiar, too intimate, like muscle memory.

“See ya at lunch, then,” you murmured, trying to shake off the strange pull toward him.

Logan gave a small nod, but his gaze stayed on you as you turned toward the door. Just as you reached it, you glanced back over your shoulder.

“You better not sneak out while I’m gone,” you teased, though part of you wasn’t sure it was really a joke.

Logan’s lips quirked at the corner, but the look in his eyes was heavy, weighed down with something you couldn’t quite place. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

---

By the time lunch rolled around, you were half-expecting Logan to be gone—off on some stubborn mission to leave the hospital before you could stop him. But when you returned, there he was, sitting up on the bed and rolling the sleeves of his shirt to his forearms.

"Kept my end of the bargain," he said, giving you a crooked grin that was more shadow than smile.

“Guess that means you earned lunch.” You gestured toward the door, and Logan pushed himself off the bed with an ease that didn’t match the severity of the injury he'd arrived with. You gave him a skeptical glance but decided to let it slide—for now.

The two of you walked through the makeshift hospital in comfortable silence. You noticed how other soldiers gave him nods or muttered greetings in passing, even though none of them really knew him. Something about Logan just demanded respect—maybe it was the way he carried himself, or the way his eyes seemed to see right through you.

At the mess tent, you grabbed two metal trays, handing one to him. “Hope you’re not picky. The food’s... not exactly five-star.”

Logan smirked. “I’ve had worse.”

You sat together at a small table, away from the loudest group of soldiers. For a moment, it was almost peaceful, like the war outside didn’t exist. Logan picked at his food absently, and you couldn’t help but study him—how his hands moved, how his jaw clenched like he was always bracing for bad news.

“So... you’ve done this before?” you asked, breaking the quiet. “The soldier thing, I mean.”

Logan glanced at you, something flickering in his expression. “Yeah. A few times.”

A few times. The way he said it made it sound like more than just a couple of tours.

“Must’ve been rough,” you murmured, stirring your soup. “I can’t imagine coming back to it over and over.”

Logan’s gaze lingered on you, and for a second, you felt pinned under the weight of it. Like he knew something you didn’t. “You get used to it,” he muttered, but the sadness in his voice told a different story.

There was a beat of silence, and then you leaned forward slightly, your curiosity getting the better of you. “You ever... think about what you’d do, you know, if you weren’t here? If the war wasn’t happening?”

Logan stared at his tray, his jaw tightening like he was biting back something painful. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Once or twice.”

The way he said it made your chest ache, and before you could stop yourself, you asked, “What would you do?”

Logan’s thumb brushed along the edge of his tray—a nervous habit, like he was weighing whether to tell you the truth. “There’s someone,” he said slowly. “Someone I thought about settlin’ down with... a long time ago.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden vulnerability in his voice. “What happened?”

Logan looked away, his expression hardening like a door slamming shut. “Didn’t work out.”

It wasn’t the whole story—you could tell that much. But you didn’t push. There was something in the way he said it, like the loss was still raw, even if it had happened years ago.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, unsure why you felt the need to say it.

Logan gave a small shrug, like it didn’t matter. But you knew better. It did matter. It mattered a lot.

---

After lunch, the two of you lingered outside the tent, neither of you in a rush to return to the chaos inside. The sun was warm on your face, a rare moment of peace in a world that had been anything but peaceful lately.

“You’re not what I expected,” you said suddenly, glancing at Logan.

He raised an eyebrow. “What’d you expect?”

You shrugged, smiling. “I don’t know. Maybe someone more... closed off. But you’re not as much of a mystery as you think.”

Logan chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “You’d be surprised.”

You bit your lip, studying him. “You feel... familiar,” you admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Like we’ve met before.”

Logan went still, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he might brush it off with some sarcastic comment. But instead, he looked at you with that same haunted expression you’d seen earlier—the one that made your chest tighten.

“Maybe we have,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

The words sent a strange chill down your spine. You stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. But Logan didn’t offer any more answers. He just stood there, watching you like he was waiting for something.

Before you could ask, Sandra’s voice called from the distance, snapping you both out of the moment. “Y/N! Doctor’s looking for you.”

You sighed, giving Logan a small, reluctant smile. “Duty calls.”

Logan nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. Better get to it.”

You hesitated for just a second longer, something inside you screaming that there was more to this—more to him. But instead, you gave him one last smile before turning away.

---

When Logan was alone again, he pulled the ring from his pocket, turning it over in his fingers. The weight of it was familiar, comforting in a way that only hurt more now.

He’d carried it through battles, through lifetimes, always hoping—maybe this time. But hope had a way of slipping through his fingers, just like you always did.

Logan clenched the ring in his fist, his jaw tightening. He knew better than to hope. He always did. But still... here you were.

For now, at least.

---

The next day you begrudgingly cleared Logan and showed him to where he would be staying before he got called away for another fight. It was a small quarters, shared with some of the other guys, but it was better than the hospital bed.

You should know. Sometimes you’ve taken power naps on those beds—when the hospital got too busy or you needed a break but couldn’t leave. They were uncomfortable as hell, but after long hours, you didn’t have much choice.

Logan tossed his bag on the bunk, eyeing the cramped quarters. It wasn’t much—just a room with a few cots and a flimsy curtain dividing it from the rest of the barracks—but he didn’t seem to care.

“You’ll be all right here,” you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe.

Logan smirked, glancing at the bed like it was just another obstacle in his way. “I’ve had worse.”

You gave him a sideways glance, shaking your head slightly. “Yeah, I’m starting to see a pattern with you.”

He chuckled, low and gravelly, the sound doing strange things to your heart. His presence was so... solid. Like he’d been through hell and back, yet here he was, standing in front of you like nothing could break him.

“Well, don’t get too comfortable,” you added with a smirk. “There’s always a chance you’ll end up back in the infirmary if you’re not careful.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest in a way that made the muscles in his forearms flex under his rolled-up sleeves. “You worried about me, nurse?”

“Maybe I am,” you teased, keeping it light even though part of you was serious. “I don’t want to have to stitch you back up.”

He laughed again, softer this time, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than just casual. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll heal.”

The words hung between you, something unspoken settling in. There was always something deeper with Logan, like the surface of his words barely scratched at the things he carried underneath.

Before you could respond, a couple of soldiers passed by, giving Logan nods of acknowledgment as they went. You noticed the way they looked at him, like he was someone who’d earned their respect without even trying.

Logan pushed off the wall, moving past you toward the door. “Thanks for the room,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “But I could use a drink.”

You laughed. “Well, good luck with that. This isn’t exactly the Ritz.”

He stopped just outside the door, turning back to you. His eyes were sharp, but there was something softer underneath. “You wanna join me?”

You paused, surprised by the offer. “Are you askin’ me out, Logan?”

His lips twitched into a half-smile. “Just tryin’ to be friendly.”

You let out a small huff of laughter, shaking your head as you grabbed your cap and followed him. “Fine. But if you’re looking for whiskey, you’re gonna be disappointed.”

The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a while, the sound of your boots crunching on the gravel road filling the air. The base had quieted down a bit as the sun dipped lower, the day easing into a calm that didn’t come often in a warzone.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Logan from time to time, trying to figure him out. He was so... different. From anyone you’d met. From any soldier you’d treated. And yet, he felt so familiar.

You found a small spot near one of the mess tents where a few crates had been stacked up like makeshift seats. Logan grabbed a canteen from his jacket, unscrewing the cap before taking a long drink. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“That better be water,” you joked, taking a seat beside him.

Logan handed you the canteen, smirking. “Try it and find out.”

You took a cautious sip, then immediately coughed, the burn of the alcohol catching you off guard. “God—what is this?”

“Something I picked up,” Logan said, eyes gleaming with amusement as you wiped your mouth. “Figured it’d help take the edge off.”

You gave him a playful glare, handing the canteen back. “Next time, a little warning, maybe?”

Logan shrugged, grinning. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “You’re trouble, Logan.”

He chuckled, leaning back against the crate. “Been called worse.”

The two of you sat there in comfortable silence for a few moments, passing the canteen back and forth. The alcohol burned, but it wasn’t the worst thing you’d ever tasted—not by a long shot. And it did what Logan said it would—it took the edge off.

You studied him for a moment, the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, even when he was sitting still. “You feel familiar,” you said quietly, your voice almost drowned out by the soft sounds of the base around you. “Like we’ve met before.”

Logan’s expression shifted—just for a second. His jaw tightened, his gaze flickering away from you and toward the horizon. “Maybe we have,” he murmured, his voice so low you almost didn’t catch it.

The words sent a strange, unexplainable shiver down your spine. You opened your mouth to ask him what he meant, but before you could, he stood up, stretching his arms over his head like he was shaking something off.

“C’mon,” he said, his voice lighter now, almost like he was forcing it. “You ready to head back?”

You blinked, still caught in the haze of the moment. But you nodded, standing up and brushing the dirt from your uniform. “Yeah, I guess so.”

The two of you walked back toward the barracks in silence, the air between you feeling heavier now. Something had shifted—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. But you knew it wasn’t nothing.

When you reached the barracks, Logan stopped at the door, turning to look at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice rougher than usual, like he was wrestling with something inside him. “If... if things ever get bad, you find me. Got it?”

You frowned, surprised by the seriousness in his tone. “Logan, what—”

“I’m serious,” he interrupted, his hazel eyes locking onto yours. “You find me. No matter what.”

You swallowed, nodding slowly. “Okay. I will.”

He held your gaze for a second longer, then nodded, like he was satisfied with your answer. “Good.”

Without another word, Logan turned and headed inside, leaving you standing there, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy blanket.

What did he mean? Why did he look at you like he knew something you didn’t?

You lingered there for a moment before finally heading to your own quarters. But even as you lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, Logan’s words echoed in your mind.

You find me. No matter what.

---

The next few days were a strange mix of routine and tension. Logan stayed around the base, mostly keeping to himself, but you found yourself crossing paths with him more often than you expected. Every time, there was that same intensity in his gaze, like he was watching you, waiting for something.

It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly. But it did make your chest tighten every time you saw him.

One evening, as the sun began to set, you found yourself wandering toward the edge of the base, needing a moment to clear your head. The war, the patients, the constant pressure—it was all getting to you. And Logan... well, Logan wasn’t making things any easier.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice him until he spoke.

“Need some company?”

You jumped slightly, turning to find Logan leaning against a tree, arms crossed over his chest, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Jeez, you scared me,” you said, placing a hand over your heart.

“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” he said, pushing off the tree and walking over to stand beside you. “You looked like you could use some company.”

You sighed, glancing out at the fading sun. “Yeah, I guess I could.”

Logan didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there beside you, his presence solid and reassuring. After a few beats of silence, he spoke.

“You doin’ all right?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

You shrugged, trying to brush it off. “It’s just... a lot sometimes, you know?”

Logan nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. “Yeah. I get it.”

There was something in the way he said it—something that made you believe he really did get it. Like he knew exactly what it felt like to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.

“Thanks for asking,” you said quietly, your gaze still focused on the horizon.

Logan was quiet for a long moment before he spoke again. “I meant what I said before,” he murmured. “You ever need anything... you come find me.”

You turned to look at him, the seriousness in his voice catching you off guard. “Logan... why are you doin’ this? Why are you looking out for me?”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and for a second, you thought he wasn’t going to answer. But then he spoke, his voice low and rough. “Because... you’re important. More than you know.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Important? How? Why?

Before you could ask, Logan stepped closer, his eyes locked onto yours. “Just promise me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Promise me you’ll come find me if you need to.”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “I promise.”

Logan held your gaze for a moment longer, then nodded, satisfied. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your head spinning with questions.

You’re important. More than you know.

What did that mean? Why did Logan feel so... familiar?

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you stood there, your mind racing. Logan had secrets—secrets you weren’t sure you were ready to uncover. But one thing was clear: whatever was between the two of you, it wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

---

On another day, you spotted Logan on the outskirts of base, sitting against a truck’s wheel with a notebook in hand.

He looked almost peaceful, maybe the most peaceful you’d ever seen him since he got here. Judging by the way he was moving his pencil, you assumed he was drawing something. You hesitated, not wanting to disturb him, but your curiosity got the better of you.

"Didn’t peg you for an artist," you said, walking over and leaning against the truck beside him.

Logan didn’t look up right away, just kept sketching, but there was a small smirk on his lips. "You learn a lot when you’ve got time," he muttered.

You glanced at the notebook, catching glimpses of rough lines and shadows. “What’re you drawing?”

He paused, almost like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to show you, then turned the notebook just enough for you to see. It was a sketch of the base—a surprisingly detailed one, with the buildings and surrounding trees, even some of the soldiers milling about.

“Not bad,” you said, genuinely impressed. “Didn’t know you had this in you.”

Logan shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “Like I said, a lot of time.” He looked at you then, and for a brief moment, there was something more behind his eyes, something deeper. “Keeps me grounded.”

You studied him, wondering what that really meant. Logan had always been a bit of a mystery, but there were moments—like now—where it felt like there was so much more to him than he let on.

“You ever thought about doing something with it? You know, beyond just sketches?” you asked, half teasing, half curious.

Logan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I’m not the ‘show-off my art’ type. It’s just... for me.” He glanced back at the drawing, his expression softening in a way you didn’t often see. “Helps me forget.”

You nodded, feeling a tug at your chest. “Forget what?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. Then he said, “Everything.”

The weight in his voice told you there was more to that statement—more than you could guess. You’d learned over the past few days that Logan was carrying his own kind of burden, just like you were. And yet, somehow, it felt like his was so much heavier.

“Must be a lot to forget,” you said softly.

Logan’s gaze flicked up to meet yours, and for a second, you thought he might actually open up. But instead, he just gave a noncommittal grunt and went back to his sketching.

You watched him for a while, feeling the comfortable silence settle between you. It was odd, but Logan’s presence had become... something you looked forward to. Even with all the unspoken tension, being around him made things feel a little less overwhelming.

“I never thanked you,” you said after a while, breaking the quiet. “For, you know... looking out for me.”

Logan’s pencil paused again, and he glanced up. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I do,” you insisted, your eyes meeting his. “You didn’t have to. But you did.”

Logan shifted, looking slightly uncomfortable with the gratitude, but his eyes softened. “I told you. You’re important.”

That word again—important. You wanted to ask him why, wanted to press him on what he really meant by that, but something in his expression told you he wasn’t ready to answer. Not yet.

“Just… stay outta trouble,” Logan said, his voice dropping into something rougher, more serious. “I’d rather not have to pull you out of any more messes.”

You smiled, trying to keep things light. “I’ll do my best. But, you know, being a nurse in the middle of a war, trouble kinda finds me.”

Logan let out a soft huff of a laugh, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

The sky was growing darker now, the last traces of sunlight fading. You knew you should probably head back to the barracks soon, but something kept you rooted to the spot, standing beside him. The air between you felt charged, like there was something unspoken hanging there, waiting to be acknowledged.

“Logan,” you began, your voice quiet but steady. “Why does it feel like you’ve been watching me? Not just looking out for me, but... like you’ve known me.”

Logan’s jaw tightened. His eyes shifted, as if he was deciding whether to answer that. You could feel your heart thudding in your chest, waiting for his response.

“I haven’t,” he said finally, though his voice lacked conviction. “Not in the way you’re thinking.”

The way he said it made you frown. “What does that mean?”

Logan’s gaze held yours, intense and searching. There was a flicker of something there—regret? Pain? Before you could figure it out, he looked away, his fingers tightening around the edges of the notebook.

“It means… I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “Not again.”

Again. There it was—a crack in the wall he’d built around himself. But before you could push him on it, Logan stood abruptly, tucking the notebook under his arm.

“You should get some rest,” he muttered, not meeting your eyes. “Long day tomorrow.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift. “Logan—”

But he was already walking away, his back stiff and his pace quick. You watched him go, your mind spinning with more questions than answers. Something was going on with Logan—something bigger than you’d realized.

And you had a feeling you weren’t going to let it go until you found out the truth.

---

The next morning you found out that Logan had already gone on some mission to Sicily. You weren’t sure why you felt sad, maybe a bit betrayed that he left without saying goodbye, but you did.

You had only known him for a few days, but somehow it seemed longer.

You couldn’t just stand around and dwell on Logan leaving without a goodbye. There was work to do. You made your way to the medical tent where a doctor had been prepping for a surgery. As you stepped inside, the familiar scent of antiseptic hit your nose, grounding you in the moment.

"Y/N, glad you’re here. We’ve got a soldier with a bullet wound to the abdomen," the doctor said, his tone brisk. "I need your hands steady and sharp today."

You nodded, pushing thoughts of Logan to the back of your mind. "Got it, Doctor."

The surgery went on for hours, the steady rhythm of your breathing matching the precise movements of your hands as you assisted. It was intense, but you had no time to be distracted. Life and death were real here, and your job was to fight for life.

When the surgery was finally over, the soldier stabilized, you stepped outside the tent to catch your breath. The sky was still overcast, and the damp air felt heavy. You leaned against a wooden post, your hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline.

Logan was gone, but the memory of him lingered. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d left something unsaid. There had been too many moments—too many heavy, unspoken words between you. You tried to brush it off. It had only been a few days since you’d met him, after all. But somehow, it felt like more.

"Y/N."

You looked up to see one of the other nurses approaching. "Yeah?"

"You’ve been requested to assist with another unit. They’re setting up a temporary hospital closer to the front lines. It’ll be rough, but they need experienced hands."

You hesitated. The front lines meant more danger, more chaos. But the soldier in you—the part that was here to help, to make a difference—knew you couldn’t say no.

"When do I leave?" you asked, straightening up.

"Tomorrow morning, first light."

You nodded, giving a small smile. "Thanks for the heads-up."

That night, you tried to sleep, but your mind kept wandering back to Logan. To his last words before he’d left—"I don’t want you to get hurt. Not again." What had he meant by ‘again’? It kept echoing in your mind, nagging at you.

---

The next morning came quickly, and before you knew it, you were being packed into a truck heading closer to the front lines. The landscape passed by in a blur, and the closer you got to the new camp, the louder the sounds of war became. Shells exploded in the distance, and the ground seemed to vibrate with tension.

You spent the next few days in a haze of blood, bandages, and exhaustion. There was barely any time to think, let alone dwell on Logan. But still, every once in a while, your thoughts drifted to him—wondering where he was, what he was doing. If he was safe.

It was late one night, a few days into your new assignment, when the unexpected happened. The sirens had started to blare, lights flashing around camp. That could only mean one thing- you were under attack. And judging by the loud engines overhead, none of you were going to make it out alive.

---

Logan had gone with other soldiers to Sicily for Operation Husky. He didn’t want to leave you, but part of him thought, hoped, that maybe he was your bad luck charm.

Logan stared at the coastline of Sicily, but his mind was elsewhere. The mission was straightforward—get in, clear the path for the troops, and secure the area. But no matter how focused he tried to stay, thoughts of you kept creeping back in. He wondered if you were safe. He hoped, for your sake, that you weren’t thinking about him as much as he was thinking about you.

It was torture, being away. But deep down, Logan believed it was better this way. Maybe him being around was what doomed you every time. You had died three times before, and each time, he had been there. Maybe this time, distance would keep you safe.

But that didn’t stop him from wanting you. The thought of your smile, your laughter, the way you challenged him—it made him ache with something deeper than just desire. It was like an old wound that never healed, no matter how fast the rest of him did.

One of the soldiers called his name, pulling him from his thoughts. “Logan, you with us, man?”

He grunted in response, nodding toward the others. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Good,” the guy said. “We’re heading out.”

Logan followed, but his thoughts drifted again, back to you. He had promised himself he wouldn’t get attached this time. But it was too late for that. He’d been attached since 1854, since that first smile, that first laugh.

---

It was a few days before Logan made it back to base, one closer to the frontlines. The mission had gone as planned, but something gnawed at him, an uneasy feeling he couldn’t shake.

As soon as the base came into view, Logan noticed something was off. Smoke still lingered in the air, and there were fewer people around than there should’ve been. His gut twisted. Something had happened while he was gone.

He found one of the soldiers he recognized, grabbing him by the arm. “What happened here?”

The guy’s face darkened. “We were hit. Bombing raid. Caught us off guard. There... there weren’t many survivors.”

Logan’s heart dropped. “Where’s the hospital unit?”

The soldier hesitated, eyes flicking away from Logan’s intense gaze. “It was one of the first targets. No one made it out.”

Logan felt like the ground had dropped from under him. “What do you mean, no one?” His voice was a low growl, almost dangerous.

The soldier shook his head. “I’m sorry, man. They didn’t stand a chance.”

Logan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. The world around him blurred as the words sank in. You were gone. Again.

Without saying another word, Logan turned and walked toward what was left of the hospital tent. He had to see it for himself, even though part of him knew it was true. There was nothing left but rubble and debris.

His chest tightened, the weight of it crushing. You were gone. And he hadn’t been there to stop it. Again.

Logan stood there for what felt like hours, staring at the wreckage. He felt that familiar, burning anger rising inside him, but it was mixed with something else this time—grief. Deep, raw grief. He wanted to scream, to punch something, anything, but all he could do was stand there, numb.

He reached into his pocket, fingers brushing against the small velvet box he always carried with him. The engagement ring. The one he had never used.

It had been almost ninety years since he bought it. And still, he carried it, hoping one day he might finally be able to give it to you. But every time, every life, you slipped through his fingers.

Logan swallowed hard, his throat tight. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. How many more times he could lose you.

“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough with emotion.

He had thought putting distance between you two would protect you. But it didn’t matter. You were gone, just like the other times.

And now, once again, he was left with nothing but memories and that damned ring.

in this chapter logan is 111 years old and reader is around 24-27 years old.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #james howlett x reader #james howlett x you #logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett fic #i love you in every time

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reneesghostinthelivingroom · 5 months ago

Text

Dancing with Sharks

|| Jinx x fem!reader

|| Warnings; reader on her period, brief mentions of killings, small intimate moments, short drabble

|| Summary; when Jinx finds reader on her period, she gets the idea of distracting her with art. Only... reader's Jinx's canvas.

Requests closed!

Started; November 29th

Finished; November 30th

Author Note; inspired by Jinx and Ekko drawing on each other 🫶 didn't think I would get this out today, but I did.

~~~

Jinx entered her workshop to find you curled up on the couch, heating pad across your stomach. Looking as though you'd seen... well, better days. To put it lightly. Just by the grimace in your expression Jinx could figure out what was wrong. Shark week. Honestly, she didn't blame ya. It killed her too.

She walked over and laid herself on top of you, a small smirk on her lips. "Dancing with the sharks?" Jinx asked, you gave a small nod. Followed by a whimper. Jinx hated seeing you in any kind of pain, normally she would kill whoever caused it. But she can't exactly kill this. Which just frustrated her more.

You glanced at Jinx, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her even closer. She let you. After all, if she could be any closer to you she would want to be. But the heating pad between the two of you made that a little difficult. Despite that, Jinx didn't move it. Knowing it was helping you better than she probably could have. She sighed quietly at the thought. Resting her head to your chest and tracing soft circles with her fingers over your arm. When she got an idea, glancing at her fingers. Then to the sketches all over her walls. A small smirk forming.

"Wait here." Jinx told you, you raised an eyebrow at her. Giving her a look that basically said 'where else would I go?'. She jumped off you, skipping over to where she kept her neon markers. She lifted them and looked at you. A goofy grin on her face," wanna be my canvas?"

You rolled your eyes, but you figured it might relax you. Even distract you from the cramps you were feeling. So you gave a reluctant nod," yeah, whatever." With your permission Jinx didn't waste any time. Immediately coming back over to you. Straddling your hips as she drew scribbles on your arms. Her signature monkey, some x's and various other things. At first it was a bit ticklish. But you relaxed into it. Finding it rather soothing. The marker brushing your skin, creating whatever visions Jinx was having.

Jinx giggled, clearly happy that you were letting her do this. She drew all the way up to your neck. Even giving your cheek a few small hearts. Before she would switch to the other arm. When she was done, she spread her arms off to the side like a grand reveal," bam! What do-ya think?"

Sitting up a bit to get a better look, you glanced at all the sketches she drew. "Looks good, baby." She smiled at the praise and kissed your cheek. Right where the hearts were drawn. It smudged with her lips, which made her huff and pout. She ruined her drawing. You laughed at that. Seeing the bit of pink marker on her lips.

"Let me get that," you murmured. Jinx tilted her head in confusion but quickly understood when your hand came up. Cupping her cheek and bringing her closer. Your lips met and you eyes closed. Enjoying the softness of the moment. Jinx always had her own special ways of making you feel better.

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sleepingdiaryzzz · 6 months ago

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Yandere Nightwing x reader x yandere Starfire

You had just finished your training, your body flush from exertion, chest rising and falling with each deep, panting breath, sweat tracing lines down your skin. The door creaked open, and Dick and Starfire stepped inside, their gazes drawn to you like moths to a flame. For a moment, they were still, struck by the sight of you—sweaty, glowing, a vision of strength and raw energy in your sports bra and training gear.

Dick’s grin faltered for a brief moment, his eyes widening, catching the sheen of sweat on your skin. His voice came out a little softer, more vulnerable than usual. “Woah... you’re... looking incredible,” he said, his words fumbling slightly, a blush creeping up his neck. “How about we grab dinner? Just the three of us. We could all use a quiet night. Together.”

Starfire, her radiant smile still bright but tinged with a shy warmth, took a step forward, her gaze soft but insistent. “Yes,” she agreed, her voice a soft melody. “We would be so honored to have you with us for a meal. Just... the three of us.”

There was something in the way they watched you, something in the air that felt heavy with unspoken words. They weren’t just admiring you—they were almost worshipping you with their eyes, drawn to the delicate curve of your form, to the strength and beauty that radiated from you.

Your heart skipped a beat, suddenly aware of the weight of their attention. “I’m not sure…” you began, trying to steady yourself, feeling an unfamiliar nervousness rise. They were already together, and this wasn’t just about friendship anymore. It felt... like they wanted more, wanted you in a way that was hard to ignore.

Dick, still flushed and a little flustered, stepped closer, his presence wrapping around you like a soft current. “No need to overthink it,” he said, his voice smoother now, more confident. “It’s just dinner. We just want to spend time with you. Let us make this a peaceful, memorable evening.”

Starfire’s touch was gentle yet firm as her fingers brushed against your wrist, the warmth of her hand grounding you in a way that made your pulse race. “You are so beautiful....” she whispered, her voice like honey, dripping with affection. “We would be so grateful to have you with us. Please, join us. Let us be together.”

Their words, soft as a lullaby, wrapped around you like a delicate thread, pulling you closer. You could feel the weight of their gazes, not just in admiration but in something more—a yearning, a quiet desire to keep you close, to pull you into their world, like two stars colliding and becoming one.

“I—guess I could join you for a bit,” you said, the words slipping from your lips almost as if they were no longer entirely your own. The way they were looking at you made it impossible to resist.

Dick’s smile deepened, satisfaction blooming in his eyes, as if you’d already agreed to more than just dinner. “Perfect,” he said, his voice like a gentle promise, a secret shared just between the three of you. “We’ll make sure it’s a night you won’t forget.”

Starfire’s smile, though tender, held a deeper, more possessive note. “Together, always,” she whispered, her touch still lingering, as if marking you as theirs. “We will make this night unforgettable.”

As they guided you toward dinner, their touches lingered, their presence surrounding you like a soft, steady tide pulling you under. You couldn’t help but feel the growing pull of their affection, gentle yet relentless, as if they were slowly, surely weaving you into their world—into their web. And somehow, you couldn’t find it in yourself to pull away.

(A/n: I want to be sandwiched between them so bad)

#yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere dc #batfam x reader #Starfire xx reader #Starfire x reader #starfire x reader #yandere starfire #yandere Starfire x reader #yandere dick grayson #yandere nightwing #yandere dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #x reader #robin x reader #😹- drabble #ʚ dinner ɞ ᵏᵒʳᶦ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ˣ ᵈᶦᶜᵏ

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propertyofwicked · 11 months ago

Text

STARE - LN

based on this request ✧ my inbox is open for requests (or if u just want a chat!) ✧

warnings - smut! MDNI!! unprotected, praising, sorta soft!dom, co-workers to lovers??? not proof read

masterlist the playlist

the energy of the mclaren garage was palpable, with engineers and mechanics scurrying around, ensuring everything was perfect for race day. y/n had been working with mclaren for a couple of years now, her role integral to the smooth running of race weekends. but today, something was different.

in honouring the master of monaco, ayrton senna, the two drivers had been given race suits that showed tribute. yellow and green suits that screamed heritage, elegance, and - in y/n’s opinion - undeniable charisma. both drivers looked good, they always did, but every time y/n caught a glimpse of lando, time seemed to slow. he looked every bit the part, embodying the spirit of senna effortlessly.

she couldn’t help but stare, her eyes seemingly glued to his form as he interacted with the team, each glance lingering a little too long. maybe he caught her a few times, heat rising her cheeks every time she quickly averted her eyes. maybe he hadn’t even noticed her, though had she not been so eager to hide her face, she would’ve seen the way he smirked to himself.

lando felt smug.

the race was typical for monaco, aside from the first-lap crash. oscar finishing P2 was significant for the team and for him, marking his best finish of the season so far. after the chequered flag waved and the celebrations began, y/n tried to busy herself with post-race duties, wrapping up some paperwork in hospitality whilst the rest of the team fulfilled media duties and packing away equipment.

or at least she tried. the room seemed to be filled with tv screens, all displaying lando’s post race interviews, hand on his hip, sweaty curls and a boyish grin. y/n was distracted, trying to avoid looking at the screens for too long, but she couldn’t help but let her mind wander at the sight of his black fireproofs clinging tightly to his frame - she was just a girl, after all.

“so,” lando began, smirking as his eyes sparkled with mischief, “you think i look good in the senna suit, huh?”

her heart skipped a beat, and her whole body jumped, not expecting lando to be stood directly behind her, his hands resting on the back of her chair.

“what? no! i-i mean, yes, but –” she stammered, “paperwork,” she added, unable to form any sort of coherent sentence. he chuckled teasingly, though his smirk grew more smug as he noticed her cheeks going red and her hand shooting up to play with her necklace.

“i saw you looking at me. a lot. couldn’t help but notice.”

“i wasn’t – i mean, i was just –” y/n stuttered, trying to regain some composure as he leant down, using the chair to support him as his head dropped to rest closer to hers. she refused to make eye contact.

“it’s okay, you know. i’m flattered,” he muttered, glancing around to ensure no one was in earshot before continuing, “but if you keep looking at me like that, i might start to think you’re more interested in what’s under the suit.”

“lando, i...” she choked out, finally turning her head to face him. he was grinning, his mouth curling into that cocky, confident grin that she had seen too many times - but this time it was directed at her, and y/n was enthralled.

“how about we discuss this further in my driver’s room? less chance of interruptions,” lando told her, his tone leaving no room for an argument, though it wasn’t as if she was going to refuse. his eyes flicked around the room once more, before grabbing her wrist to tug her along behind him. once inside the room, he closed the door behind them, the small space suddenly feeling much more intimate.

“so,” he said again, turning to face y/n, “you think i look good, huh?”

“yes, i do. very good,” she told him, suddenly deciding to put on a brave face. his smirk softened into a genuine smile.

“good to know. because i think you look pretty good too,” lando replied, stepping closer, his hand reaching up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “especially in that skirt you wore a few weeks ago.”

she looked at him puzzled for a moment, she knew exactly which skirt he meant, but how did he? how had he noticed her enough to remember what she was wearing?

“how did yo-”

“at least when i stare at you, i don’t make it obvious angel,” lando grinned, before dropping his head to press a kiss to her lips quickly, almost hesitantly at first. she kissed him back quickly, her arms wrapping around his neck as his hand moved to cup her jaw, the other settling on her waist. his hand pushed her head back, allowing him better access as he deepened the kiss, all whilst moving the two of them towards the sofa.

“it wasn’t that obvious,” she retorted in defence, pulling away from his lips quickly to catch her breath.

“it was,” lando replied, shifting the two of them so that he fell comfortably on the sofa, her landing on his lap, “even oscar noticed.”

“shut up?” she replied, tucking her face into his neck to hide her embarrassment, but trailing kisses down his skin.

“make me?” he replied, matching her tone as she nipped at his skin lightly, “good thing i’ve finished media for the day, isn’t it?”

“sorry - i didn’t mean t-” she started, pulling back to look at the red mark forming on his neck, but found herself interrupted by the shake of his head.

“i’d say do it again, but we have…20 minutes until everyone needs to leave,” lando told her reassuringly, his fingers gripping at her hips as his fingers rubbed harsh circles into her skin. her grips rolled into his, as if instinctually, whilst he moved back to kiss her, harsher than before.

“as much as you like this suit, it’s about time i take it off - don’t you think?” he asked, watching as she nodded quickly, her hands moving to the zipper. her hips rose momentarily to help him strip down, a pile of his clothes forming on the floor next to the two until he was left in just his boxers, her in equally as little clothing.

“lace?” lando asked, smiling up at her, his fingers trailing the hem of her underwear teasingly, “id ask if this was for me but there’s no way you could’ve seen this coming.”

“no, id say you were right,” she shrugged, her hand moving to grip his cock through the fabric, “i like to come prepared.”

“and ‘come you will,” he joked, which she couldn’t help but smile at despite the intimacy.

lando pushed a rugged finger past her panties, moving the fabric aside as two fingers slid through her folds, circling her clit a few times. he looked at her face, watching how she reacted to him. her mouth had opened slightly, already feeling pleasure from the anticipation, but it widened as the two fingers pushed into her, stretching her out around him. her hand was still working up and down his clothed length, thumb finding his tip as his precum leaked through the fabric of his boxers.

“did you say 20 minutes?” y/n suddenly asked him, her eyes widening at the realisation.

“i did,” he nodded, stuttering slightly as her hand pulled at his waistband.

“have we got time?”

“from the way you’re working yourself on my fingers, id say we have time to finish this, get dressed and be back at mine with 5 minutes to spare,” he exaggerated slightly, though continued twisting his fingers into her, engulfed in the way she rolled her hips into him as her walls tightened around him.

though lando didn’t give her time to get embarrassed about how quickly she was coming undone for him, before his fingers moved away from her. she whined slowly at the loss of contact, but lando ignored her, moving to take his fingers in his mouth, tasting her on his tongue.

“so good,” he muttered. he grabbed her face harshly, kissing her again so that y/n could taste herself, his hips lifting from the sofa to free himself completely. her hand resumed it’s ministrations, thumb resuming a circling motion on his tip. lando found himself distracted the moment her fingers dragged precum down his cock, following the patterns of veins that spread across his length.

“fuck,” he mumbled, the two of them trying to stay quiet as footsteps could be heard from outside his door, “need you now.”

y/n raised herself up on her knees quickly, lando’s hand on her waist guiding her towards him. his free hand gripped at the base of his cock, tracing it through her folds quickly and lining up with her entrance. the hand on her waist pushed her down slowly, helping to lower herself on him.

“big,” she whined, unable to form a full sentence, her head dropping to rest on lando’s shoulder as she sunk down further.

“thanks,” he laughed out, though the action made his body move causing y/n to slip, taking the rest of his length in all at once.

“fuck,” y/n mewled, nipping at the flesh of lando’s shoulder quickly to distract her from the stretch.

“you’re fine, you’re ok,” he reassured her, his voice soft despite him fighting the urge to thrust up into her.

she nodded into him quickly as her hips began to roll into him, feeling the way his length filled her. small grunts and incoherent mumbles from lando urged her to move more, so she raised her hips slowly before dropping back down over and over again until she settled on a good pace. lando’s fingers dug into her hip, barely guiding her movement whilst his fingers left bruises in his wake.

“wanna see you,” he told her, a hand pushing her shoulder back to look at her face. the new position awoke something in her, the angle sending her into overdrive as she used him to get herself off.

“and these…” lando added, moving to grip her breast in one hand, neck straining to take the other in his mouth.

“fuck, lan- fuck,” y/n uttered, feeling the way his tongue flicked at her nipple quickly before moving to nip and suck at the surrounding flesh. her chest was littered in red marks, sure to form into a constellation of bruises that would adorn her skin for weeks.

“taking me so good baby,” he told her, feeling the slowing of her pace with her legs growing tired, “you need me to help?”

she looked at him intently, before nodding. lando’s eyelids were half closed, but she could still see the way his pupils were blown with lust - he groaned deeply as she came to a stop, returning to rolling her hips into him instead.

“need to hear you say it,” lando insisted, his fingers trailing circular patterns up her thighs before settling on her clit. he felt her tense around him, the rolling of her hips coating his length in her slick as shoots of icy pleasure seemed to move directly from his fingertips to her brain.

“please, lando.”

“please what? what do you need, baby?” he teased, his own hips beginning to slowly jut up into her.

“need you t-to take over,” y/n stammered, gripping at lando’s shoulders tightly, “please.”

as much as he wanted to hear her beg, the way she had whimpered the word please was enough for him to pull her into a tight embrace, her legs anchoring around his back before he started thrusting himself into her at a brutal pace. oh how she prayed no one was stood nearby at this very moment, as all they would hear was the distant sound of skin slapping against each other, slightly muffled by the two of them panting.

“so responsive,” lando praised her, slowing slightly to sneak a hand between the two of them, fingers finding her clit once more, “fit me so well. like you were made f’me,” he grunted.

y/n’s mind had gone blank as lando mindlessly praised her, he himself unable to think about anything else.

“you gonna cum f’me?” he cooed, feeling the way she began to claw at his back, raking her nails into his skin and she grinded her hips into him, matching his pace.

“mhm,” she muttered out, her lips returning to his in a heat kiss - the type of kiss that overall had too much tongue and too much teeth but fit the haste of the moment so perfectly.

“go on then,” he prompted, “show me how good i make you feel.”

y/n didn’t respond verbally, she couldn’t. no, instead she came hard and fast, letting lando grip at her hips to hold her down harshly so that his length stayed deep inside of her.

“fuck me,” she panted out, though tried to keep the rolling motions of her hips to bring lando to his own finish.

“so good to me,” he grunted, taking in the sight in front of him, “you feel so good,” he added, barely able to utter another word before he was pulling her off him, ropes of cum shooting onto his stomach as she hovered over him.

“you didn’t have to do that,” she told him after a few moments of silence with lando catching his breath, “im on the pill anyway.”

“i didn’t think,” he told her, laughing lightly as she clambered off his lap, searching for her clothes, “now i know for next time.”

“next time?”

“yes, next time,” he doubled down, “trust me, ive wanted this for months. and now i’ve had you, i don’t think i want anyone else.”

heat rose to her cheeks again - she’d hoped this wasn’t a one time thing, but she was now blushing at the thought of it being a regular occurrence.

“tonight?” she asked him, cautiously.

“eager?” he teased.

“sorry i-” y/n started to apologise, stuttering slightly in her nervousness.

“y/n - tonight, tomorrow night, next week. my schedule is clear, for you.”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked

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13tinysocks · 6 days ago

Text

My Dead Girlfriend

Angstrom Levy plays his hand. You fuck it up. [Invincible Variants x reader]

[Part one] [Ao3] [5] [7]

6 * Bad Dog [5.5k]

"Since all those lost years when I thought I was the monster,

It turns out I was really the prey

Masturbating and waiting for the raid,

And hating every little thing about you all the way!"

The Ruminant - Go Hang

The acrid breeze makes his blue curtain of a mask flutter. "Give us our shit." You almost don't think it's Mark talking, his voice is so different, so stereotypically New York native.

The man standing on solid air ignores him. Good eye sliding from one Mark to another. "You're down one."

"We're down a lot more than that, numbnuts." Mohawk throws his arms out. Gesturing to the empty space where other Marks could have been, but weren't.

"To be expected. This reality is much more resilient than most." At that, the men surrounding him bristle.

"You meant for us to die." Baldie accuses, crossed arms tensing with the need for violence. "You were never going to deliver."

The man, Angstrom, though you don't quite know it yet, laughs. Holding a scarred finger out to point at you. "I have though, haven't I? More than half of you wished to see this one again."

You are slack in the arms of your savior. Conscious but head spinning with the sudden change of atmosphere. It was a good thing none of them could see your face behind the mask, see that you were awake and biding your time.

But he knows you're awake. The one holding you, the warrior raised on Viltrum from birth. He feels your pulse pick up under his hands, hears the skip of your heart, the faint smell of fear induced sweat under your armor. The others aren't close enough to sense it, you hide your feelings well, play dead good as a possum, but he knows. And he tells nobody.

"You've all had a turn, so I think my end has been delivered." He finishes.

The one with a bare face looks at Angstrom, confused. "I have no idea who that is. Where's William?"

"Yeah." Backs up the long masked one. "Like I'd even give a fuck about some... whatever." he waves his hand, uncaring to find a word for some insignificant bug.

Despite the backlash, Angstrom smiles pleasantly. "I'm aware in your realities, you didn't know or care for (Y/n) (L/n). That is perfectly acceptable. Don't think I've forgotten about the deals we've all made. But to fulfill them, I'll need you to find this dimensions Mark Grayson and bring him to me."

Eyes twitch. Lips curl.

"No," Scars finally says. He looks to you in the arms of that straight-laced Viltrumites arms and barely contains a smirk. He's going to enjoy ripping you out of them. Tearing his arms off for touching you. "I've got what I want. I'm done with this place."

"You are aware I could leave you here or somewhere worse, correct?" Angstrom doesn't sound the least bit concerned regarding the mounting tension. The cracking knuckles. The nasty grinning-snarls, thirsty for a little more blood.

"You won't." Lensless hums, "We'll kill ya before you get the chance."

"Then we'd actually be stuck here forever, dumbass." Mohawk barks. "We'll just torture him instead, duh."

Angstrom rose a brow. "There's only one of her left in all existence, remember that before you threaten me."

You are consumed by crackling green light that seems to statically stick to your armor. You are falling, then not, draped over Angstrom's arm like a coat. Still trying to play knocked out. "I have the perfect reality ready for her if any of you move." He says before you're settled. "Pit of man-eating octomen I've been starving for months, waiting right here." A ring of power encircles your body, not touching you but threatening with its presence. "Move and she's there."

"I don't care, man." Long Mask says.

Angstrom ignores him. "Get me Mark Grayson."

"You've got ten of him right here," Emperor says. "And if you know what's good for you, you'll drop it."

Angstrom laughs, nastily. So hard he shakes you in his grip. "Am I dog now, Mister Grayson?"

"You're no better than one," Emperor replies.

"Look at you all- looking at me like you want me to die. After everything I've given you." Spit flies off Angstrom's lips, landing on your visor. "I met so many of you with snot dribbling out your noses over this thing," he jostles you in his grip as you grit your teeth, "this worthless animal who in so many dimensions joins your conquest. Just some regular human who adds absolutely nothing to nearly every timeline. I don't get the appeal, but I don't have to. Do as I say or she dies."

You observe the Marks. Ready to pounce. To throw caution to the wind. Some are hesitant, actually using their brains but enough of are ready to fucking shred you think you might get eaten by whatever an octoman is.

It leaves you with no other choice. It was just a bonus it'd get him to shut up. You were dead tired of hearing this guy's voice. Hearing any guy's voice.

You let out a weak, groggy groan. Catch Angstrom's attention, which is all you need. Watch the grin spread across his busted face. "Look who's awak-"

"Bite off your tongue." Blood comes out of your nose in such a rush it splattered against the inside of your helmet. Power ripped from you all at once, used on this guy you didn't know, but definitely didn't trust.

Drip, drop atop your helmet. Then came the rivers of blood down his chin. Weaving through his beard. Tongue stuck all the way out his mouth, teeth grinding down, down, down. Sawing, squelching. He blinks, tongue half removed from his mouth, when your hold snaps. A scream that was more a gargle, splatters more blood across your visitor. You're thrown, ass over heel.

His words are thick with pain and a brand-new lisp as he says, "Bad dog!"

The sickly green light surrounds you as a portal opens up behind your back, snapping shut before the closest version of your ex could reach you. The last thing you saw was him smiling with blood bubbling over his lips.

Your landing was surprisingly soft. Skidding to a slow stop on silky tan sand. Scrambling to your knees to see where the portal was. Gone. No green, just a cloudless, hazy sky. Sun fat in the sky. Beating down harsh on the black metal of your armor. Around you there is nothing but more sand and ruins of a society long forgotten.

You don't know what happened. Don't know how to process what happened. Calling out to the nothingness, "Bring me back!" To no reply or help at all.

***

"You-!"

Biting off your own tongue was something the deeply deranged and suicidal did. Despite that criteria, Angstrom Levy had never wanted to do such a thing, but there you'd been- making him do it.

He was in acute shock. Slow. Unable to dodge the hands grabbing him, the fists beating him, not with his tongue dangling half-cut out his mouth. Threats came pouring in quick as they were delivered. Ribs broken. Ligaments torn, good eye gone red with burst blood vessels.

It'd lasted thirty seconds, maybe less, but a voice cut through the violent haze. "We can't get her back if he's dead." Said the boy who killed his father and wore his cloak. God, if Freud were still around.

The words didn't calm them, but soothed the blows like a balm. Mohawk had him by the collar, choking him with it. "Open the portal, cocksucker."

Angstrom rose a hand, the only one he had left after that Viltrumite loyalist chopped the other off. He let it open slow, teasingly so. Power roiling under his skin, revenge on the mind. They'd thought they'd had him down and out, but he was nowhere near dead. He never planned to keep them along for the full ride. The plan was always to betray them. This was much sooner, and much bloodier, than planned. So be it.

"There." He heaved. They turned, looking into the opening to a new world. A world so dry it'd evaporate the marrow out of your bones.

Phantom didn't speak. Just shot his black and blue body through. One down, nine to go.

"That world," he begins, tongue awkwardly flailing over the bottom of his mouth, blood spilling down his throat just to be hacked out, "-that world has major time dilation. She could be very far from the origin point by now. Miles. It'll take him too long to find her... I can't-" He let the portal waiver, looking unstable, "I can't hold it long."

"You can and you will." The ex-prisoner grabbed him by the balls. Through Angstrom's pants but still. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

If guilt tripping wouldn't work, he had no other choice. "Wait... I can.. I think I've found her." More portals zap open all around him. Nine in total. "Do you see?" They turn, just to watch the portals shoot closer, swallowing them all whole before snapping shut. Leaving them to fall in the sand and Angstrom alone to his devices.

***

You'd tried it all. Screaming. Looking for an exit. Digging. Trying to call someone, anyone on your phone that had not a bar. All while the sun beat at your back. You didn't give up, not really, just resigned to moving somewhere else. Powers, you knew, were stupid. Angstrom could find you again even if you'd left the dropoff.

You walked. Migraine gnawing at your temples. Power stores drained out. Boots dragged in the sand, prints sifting away as soon as they were made. Moved from wreck to wreck for the tiniest slivers of shade. Baked inside your helmet until you popped it off, wiping at the drying blood with your gloves. When there was a breeze, it felt like a hairdryer, making your eyes water.

Two hours, you'd walked to find nothing.

The sun moved slow, the sky fading to a dull purple, but you knew the second it dipped below the dunes, you'd be dead without a fire. Deserts don't stay hot without sun. Planks were easy come by, old wood waiting to disintegrate into the sand. You rooted through the tool belt attached to the body armor. Tear gas, a high-powered taser, a flare, a knife, ammo for a gun you didn't have, and a to-go first aid kit.

You tried the taser on the wood. It made the old thing crumble in your hands. You tried again to the same result. Again and again as the sun crossed the sky and the heat began to ebb.

***

He flew through the desert, combing it in a gird. Square mile by square mile, searching. Growing more desperate by the second. Head filling with what if's.

It's faint, a mere vibration in his left ear. He banks hard. Following. Forcing his hearing to it's limit- catching grains shifting below his flight path. Then it comes again. Audible this time. Bzzt. Lil more to the left. Bzzzzt! Not long now. He starts to slow right as the sound pinged from below. BZZZT!

"Fuck you, motherfucker." Came out from a line of beams fallen together to make a concrete tent.

He landed gently, trying not to make a dust cloud and scare you away. Watching your back as you tried to light a plank ablaze with a taser. It crumbled in your hands. You scoff, kicking debris into a cloud that makes you violently cough.

You could turn and see him. Husky purple dusk not yet camouflaging his blue-black body suit. But you don't. Instead, you keep trying to tase the remaining sawdust into flames. It doesn't work.

He floats above the sand, slowly rolling into your view.

***

Chaos. Total, absolute, chaos.

Nine of them in the middle of some desert planet, tenth fucked off God knows where. No Angstrom to take them out. No (Y/n) to soften the blow. The rage settled in like a beat behind their eyes, a thrum under their fingerpads. They wanted to choke each other for existing.

Their personal genie had betrayed them, left them for dead.

He wasn't the first to blast off into the desert. Searching for a way out, for you. He was, however, first to shoot into the sky for a birdseye view. The atmosphere thinned, going from an ugly yellow to the familiar dark of space. Above the sphere, he hovered, seeing only sand. Around the planet he went, hoping, then finding those hopes were something juvenile.

The search extended into space. For other planets. He noticed then, flying through the cold dark there were no stars or gas giants or distant worlds. Only the planet they landed on and the too-close sun.

As if Angstrom Levy had found the one reality in all of existence with one dead world. One big, sandy, uninhabitable world. The perfect place for them all to die. The search could be expanded later, with more of them looking, but he doubted even their Viltrumite bodies could reach any planets if he couldn't see them.

He was angry, but couldn't fault the guy. He was going to rip off Angstrom's balls after all. He'd find a way out of this, the same way he'd found a way out of that hell of a Viltrumite prison. Scarred beyond recognition. Coming home to find the love of his life dead and long buried.

Except that now you were down on that sandball, somewhere. Hopefully alive. So why was he angsting up in space?

***

The taser shot out, connecting thick prongs to his suit. Electricity traveled fast through the carbon fiber, penetrating to his skin. He didn't seize and drop. He took it like he was nothing but thin air, like you were imagining him in a wave of heat induced hysteria.

The prongs retracted and he took that as cue to step down into your concrete hut. Coming closer, slow, hands up over his chest like he wasn't going to hurt you- as if you'd believe that.

You hear it. Something moving so fast the air splits around you.

You don't know what you're going to do. Shout? Duck? Gasp? You don't get to decide because he's on you. Holding you hard against himself, feet inches off the ground, hand pressed firm over your mouth. Head tracking the sonic spec in the sky as it passed over. When the coast is clear, he sets you down and backs off. Not leaving your nothing of a camp, but any space willing given by these freaks was noticeable.

"Leave." Power doesn't even bother to tickle your throat. You had jackshit left. Wouldn’t have jackshit for days if your luck stayed bad. You'd only blown yourself out like this one time- that day at the beginning of the end of your life. You'd never used your power on someone else powered before. Barley used it period. Only on little, meaningless, petty things. Until you used it all at once to save his life. Then on him. Blowing out you out like a tire. Failing.

Now you were here. Staring at a fully masked version of him, unable to control him or your life again.

Yet you try, "Go." The taser finds its home in your belt, replaced by the tear gas canister held over your head. "Or I'll set this fucking bomb off if you get any closer." It's a lie so obvious you couldn’t put your chest behind it. "I'll kill us both, I swear to God."

He doesn’t move. Your helmet sits on the ground at your feet. You wonder how fast you could set the tear gas off and put the thing back on. If the GDA-enhanced tear gas would make you go blind.

As you fingered the pin, he pulled something from his belt. A short, metal pin. He approaches the pile of wood you’d made. You back up, knowing he'd catch you if you ran. Knowing you didn't have energy for any more running. He cracks the metal against a shred of concrete. Sparks rained down on the dry material and then there was fire. Small but as he stepped back, blaze growing.

Technically, you knew what he was doing. Starting a fire so you wouldn’t freeze to death, the breeze as the sun went down already cool. But mentally? You had no idea what he wanted. You knew that he was one of the ones that asked for you, that knew some version of you and decided thousands dead was worth it. Even though he was the first to your side on multiple occasions, you couldn’t know what he wanted. If he wanted something in exchange.

The sky had gone a deep gray. Cold settling in between the sand dunes like an old bone's ache. You could leave, but the growing fire was your one and only shot of living. Just a guess, but the taser thing wasn’t going to work.

"What do you want?" You asked, shuffling closer. Still gripping the tear gas hard, reared over your shoulder like a weapon. "Tell me or I'll set it off."

"I'm not going to hurt you." Through that demon of a modulator, you catch a softness, Mark whispering a secret he hadn’t told anyone else. More genuine than you’d heard from any of these alternates.

"How do I know you're not lying?" But there is no reply, and you don’t think he is. He's done talking and you're done fighting.

He sits first. On the edge of an uneven slab, leaving plenty of room for you. You watch him carefully. Sure he's going to lunge, a lurking predator luring you into a false sense of safety. So you lean against the wall instead, watching him and the fire.

He does lunge eventually, ten minutes later. Dashing forth to stomp out the fire as another body streaks across the sky. Tense as you both watched it go by. Waiting until there’s nothing but the night. Then he was back on his knees, cracking the stick onto new planks.

"What is that?" You're still standing. Arm lifting the canister overhead once again.

He looks up from the fire at you. Black going brown in the light. Tentatively, tortuously, and against every nerve in your body, you sit. Slip the tear gas canister back into your belt. Hoping he'd talk if you seemed a little less hostile.

"Tell me where I am. Who the fuck was that?"

You’re not shocked when he says nothing, only annoyed by your acceptance of it. He can’t bring himself to ruin this moment with you, finally alone. Hearing your voice, even angry, was like an angel’s song for the damned. Your face like something out a dream. Any nervous tics, little movements, shifts in your weight, was studied and tucked away to categorize and compare to what he knew.

You at seventeen, nervous and shy and sweet. Could you have become this bitter thing had you lived? Surely not. He'd have made sure you were taken care of. Made you into a wife with nothing to fret over. He hates him. The Mark of your dimension. Wants to turn him inside out for letting whatever happened to you- happen.

You watched him right back with no knowledge of what his gaze meant. None of the same interest, but watching for the same things, instincts of being prey. Wondering when the slowly stalking fox was going to pounce, if the gaze was a challenge. In the thickening night, he was starting to blend in. You could still see his outline and the dark lenses reflecting back your stare. You try to look past them but can't, can't read anything from the blank, dark slate. You look away, wanting a momentary reprieve, backing down from the challenge. Movement. Your gaze right back, tense all over. Hand on the taser holster.

The mask is off. Chin up, he is bare. There is stubble dark on his jaw, skin paler than you recalled Mark ever being, his hair a shaggy mess that hung past his ears, eye bags deep, nearly purple. He was Mark, no surprise there, the surprise was the slate blue of his eyes. Just like his father's.

You pull the taser out, but not wanting to escalate further, voice almost a whisper after you’d grown used to the quiet. "What do you want?" He looks up at you under dark brows and long lashes. It reminds you so much of your Mark you want to strike him, but think better of it. "Answer me."

It comes out breathy, hardly audible. "I just-" Two syllables and his voice breaks. Cracks right down the middle. He shuts his mouth, hand going to his throat, thumb massaging. He swallows, tries again but all that comes out is a hoarse sigh. His brows knit in frustration. He’d talked more than he was used to in the past few days, and with the dry air and nerves, what was left of his vocal cords wasn’t going to cooperate.

You don’t know what’s wrong with him, but now you understand why he wore that modulator.

The mask goes back on. He's given up trying to talk, trying to show his belly like he wasn't a threat. You suspect violence, harassment, almost get up anticipating it, but it doesn't come. You're about to settle down when the ground shudders just outside your camp. You don't get the chance to check what it was because it steps inside between the concrete pillars.

"We've been working together to find a way out of this shithole and here you two've been, love shackin' it up." His mask flutters in front of his face as he talks. Sand stuck to his tracksuit where blood had wet it. "Jesus, yer lucky I found you. Those other dudes have been losing they's fuckin' minds."

Phantom rises, dashing the small fire away. He'd know his alone time with you would be short. They'd find you both eventually, but he was glad to have had it. Even if you looked at him with such disdain. For so many years, that's all he wanted. His voice failing him was punishment for letting you die, for letting this version of you get stuck in an unending desert. He'd make it up to you. Find a voice to say what needed to be said.

He steps towards the other. Long mask, long face, you don't quite know what to mentally call him yet- steps back. Making room for Phantom to exit the ruin.

"I'm not leaving." You tell the newcomer, though you grab the helmet. To throw at him? To cover your head from the cold now that the fire couldn't ward it off?

"You dunno if I've found a way out or not and yer just gonna act like that?" His laugh is humorless, "Glad we weren’t a thing in my world."

Behind him, Phantom jerks his head, a 'come' gesture. Wind, not a breeze, cuts through the dunes and sends winter cold through the cracks in your armor. Settles under the fabric, making you shiver.

"Do you have a way out?" You demand.

"Would'a left your ass behind if I did." He says, stepping further back. Annoyed but understanding you wouldn’t come within a certain distance; despite how fast he could liberate your head from your shoulders. "Come on," he lifts inches off the ground, "the longer you're gone the edgier those shitheads get. I can't take it anymore."

You really, really, really did not want to see any of them. You look back to your concrete shack. But. Survival is easier in groups, right? You know what else is easier in groups? Mass murder. The second you got your powers back, you were taking them out like you'd set out to do. Sure, you'd probably only kill one or two more of them but it'd be enough to kill Mark Grayson four times before you went to hell. Only then did eternity of torture sound bearable.

You also couldn't make a fire, it was freezing, you had no food and you'd be starving soon, and you had nothing to drink but codeine, which was a bad idea.

Phantom waited for you on the ground. Tracksuit, ah there's that convenient nickname, hovered low in the sky waiting. "Let's go already." You can't fly and something tells you Tracksuit isn't willing to walk however many miles it is back to camp.

Phantom taps his masked cheek. At first you're disgusted, thinking he wants you to lay one on him but realize, he's telling you to put the helmet on. You'd seen those old stories of superhuman and regular-Joe-human romances going bad because their lover flew too fast and all the human's skin was flayed off. You didn't want to go to the others, but you really didn't want to go without skin.

You put the helmet on and he moves towards you. Slower than the first time he scooped you up and took you to the sky. He definitely felt bad about dropping you. Elbows move under knees, strong hand supporting your back. Lifting off gently this time. Accelerating slowly enough for Tracksuit to scoff and shout, "Dude, move it!"

You'd never been flying like this. Before, it was too quick to process, too much adrenaline. Now you were burnt out and empty enough to actually process the passing dunes. To feel your body relying on his for support. You would have liked it, really, if it wasn't one of the crazy Marks- which was pretty much all of them. Horrified at any time he'd drop you or dangle you by an ankle until you cried, "Uncle." He hadn't seemed the type, but he also ripped off Psychopomp's arms the second time you met him. He wasn't as forward as the others, which made him less predictable.

The whole flight you were scared shitless, because the second it was over, things were only going to get worse. The bright side was, things were always awful before they got better. Thinking about killing Mark calmed you down a fraction.

Even in the distance, you could see the camp. No mountains to hide its orange glow. The only thing of note for miles upon miles.

Tracksuit sighed with relief, "Thank God." He shot forward, gone, leaving you and Phantom to meander along. You'd noticed he'd significantly slowed. Sucking up all the remaining alone time with you he could get. Hovering hundreds of feet over a massive bonfire. Figures below, waiting with baited breath.

Phantom contemplates the success rate of leaving. Running with you. Surviving alone together. His black boots touch down on the sand. He sets you down, keeping a hand at your back as you wobble to your feet. Unaccustomed to flying. Human heart fluttering in your chest.

You get no peace or relief.

Just Mohawk flying forward and almost knocking you over "Dickhead," he hissed before his fist sent Phantom careening into the desert night. Phantom catches himself, but stays further back, hidden in the dark. It was chilly but this planet was nothing compared to the vacuum of space. To what his life had been before seeing you again. The fire, here and there, were for you. Warmth and signal. He would keep watch from the shadows.

The perpetrator turns to you, sand stuck in his mohawk. "You good?"

You don't meet his eye. Opting to stumble closer to the bonfire, trying to avoid eye contact with the Marks standing around.

"I thought you'd need it," Omni-Wannabe says.

"Where are we?" You stare into it. Hoping they don't notice the answers aren't forced out of them. That they don't piece together the only reason you're not going batshit is because you're powerless.

"A desert," Lensless kicks at the sand, "Duh."

"What desert?" It's hard to keep the venom out of your voice.

Emperor stretches his legs over a rock. Leaning back in his low earthy chair, looking like he meant to be stranded. "You tell me. You're the one who got us trapped here."

You don't bite the bait. You can't fight back, so opening your big mouth is the last thing you should do. But he's looking at you like he wants to chop you to pieces. You go for fawning but not too out of character. "Wasn't expecting anyone to end up here with me."

Under the yellow fabric, his brow twitches. "After all the chasing and defending, you didn't expect backup?"

"I didn't ask for backup." You say, "I have no idea what's going on. One second I'm working, the next this guy," your arm gestures to Mohawk who grins, "is beating the shit out of my boss."

Emperor's muscles tighten. You'd said the wrong thing. Towed the line too willy-nilly. He says, "You really must be dumber in this world if you haven't figured it out yet. Don't speak to me until you do." And goes back to watching the fire.

Crisis averted.

Somebody thinks it's a good idea to rest their fat, meaty hand on your shoulder and say, "Are you okay?"

When you turn it's the bald one. Wearing an expression you think is concern.

You can't help moving away and snapping, "Get off."

"D'aww, somebody mad their geriatric handler didn't pick them up?" Scars is right behind you. Not close enough to touch, but too close for comfort. He could push you into the fire and you'd be roast dinner. "Not expecting to deal with the consequences of your actions, were you?"

This time, for real, you hold your tongue. Stuck straight to the roof of your mouth. You are not fucking with this guy.

He touches you the same place Baldie did. You're scared to shove him off. Baldie was a mistake, one that could've gotten you killed. Scars would be a mistake that would get you killed.

"Hey, look, she's afraid of me!" He announced like it was an honor. "That's a smart girl, but where's that fighting spirit? Come on, I wanna see you try n' hurt me again."

You don't reply. Don't move. Don't breathe.

"Your heart just skipped a beat, there, Dregs. Don't tell me you're gonna avoid me by killing yourself again." His fingers tighten on your shoulder. Nearly bruising. "I won't let it happen again." He's masking his anger being here with nine of himself by playing with you. Relieving stress.

"You're wasting your energy antagonizing her." The grip lightens immediately, someone else to play with. Scars' violent attention turned toward the bare baby-faced version of himself.

"You telling me what to do?" Tension cracked off his split lip.

"No." The other says evenly, "But we're stuck in an alien desert. Now's not the time to pull some master-slave dynamic bullshit on some girl you don't even know. Be smart."

Scars slipped around you, prowling toward the sat man. "And how do you suggest I 'be smart'."

He started counting off on his fingers, "Get more firewood if you don't want her to freeze to death. Search ruins for something that could get us out. Look for food. Rest, conserve energy, because we don't know how long we'll be stuck here. My guess is until we get ourselves out because there's no way Angstrom is coming back for us."

"He will," Lensless says with unwarranted confidence. "He has to know we'll find him and kill 'im. It's dumber to let us be mad n' stuff."

Maskless shakes his head. "He chose this planet because he expects us to die. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm not fighting you guys over some human I don't know. If you're smart, you'll do the same." He slides off the rock and lies himself sideways in the sand. Head propped on his elbow like a pillow. "At least shut up or go to sleep so you can kill echother quicker tomorrow."

Scars took two steps toward him before an arm jutted out, stopping him. Omni-Mark stood between the two like a wall. "He's right. We should sleep while it's cool. Search more tomorrow."

"Who said you're in charge?" Emperor snipped despite being deeply unhelpful.

"I'm not trying to be," he said, "it's just a suggestion."

One you take. Moving away to the other side of the blaze while their bickering went on and on. You sat on a rusted pipe. Maskless a few feet to your right, brow furrowed but eyes closed. The Viltrumite to your left, arms folded behind his back. Posture painfully straight. His eyes flick over to you, head not moving.

You don't see it, but he's content with the situation at hand- for now. He could take the others. Savvy enough to survive in the harshest conditions where the others surely weren't. He'd conquered harsher planets than this without help. Atop of all that, you were choosing to be by his side. That is enough for him, for the moment.

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theosbaby · 1 year ago

Text

i still hate you

mattheo riddle x fem!reader

masterlist

SUMMARY ! you're assigned as mattheo's partner for a project, which forces you to work together despite the hatred you feel towards him.

WARNINGS ! enemies to lovers, sassy!reader, swearing, name-calling, insults, SMUT, dom!mattheo, sub!reader, slight neck grabbing, dirty talk, hair pulling, public sex (kinda), degrading and praising, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex.

NOTES ! english isn't my first language, so you might find mistakes. i had the hugest writer's block, but i finally finished this... hope you like it!

when professor snape assigned mattheo riddle as your partner for a very important potions project, you knew right away that you were going to fail. you hated mattheo and he hated you as well; there was no way you'd be able to work together without trying to kill each other in the process.

"hello there, princess," he greeted when you arrived at the library, taking a look at you.

you rolled your eyes as you approached the table where he was sitting and you dropped the books on top of it. then, you watched as he slouched in his chair, spreading his legs wide. despite yourself, that action made your heart skip a beat. you couldn't deny he was very attractive, even though you despised him, but that was something you'd never admit out loud.

"don't call me 'princess'," you replied, making a face, "you know i hate that."

mattheo chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement, while he crossed his arms over his chest and said, "oh, i know, my dear. that's why i keep doing it." his smirk grew wider as he watched your reaction.

you narrowed your eyes, glaring at his smug expression. you couldn't believe how insufferable he was.

"stop acting like an idiot," you said, taking a seat on the table.

mattheo leaned forward in his chair, resting his arms on top of the table and spoke, "or what, princess? you'll hex me?" he asked, sarcasm clear in his voice, "i doubt it."

you saw him winking at you just to piss you off, which made you clench your fists tightly, biting back a curse, completely unamused by his behaviour.

"don't tempt me, riddle," you snapped at him. "i just might."

mattheo's smirk grew wider as he watched your anger bubble up. you knew he loved to push your buttons until you got all riled up like that.

"so feisty," he murmured, his dark eyes locked on yours. "i like that."

"dont't fucking flirt with me, you asshole," you spat.

your face scrunched up in disgust, which was faked of course, deep down you knew you liked him more than you would even recognise out loud... or even to yourself.

mattheo leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms again, completly unfazed by your ourtbust. he looked at you with a smug grin tugging at the corner of his lips, as if challenging you to stop him.

"are you always this uptight, sweetheart?" he asked wih a mocking tone. "it's exhausting just watching you."

"are you always this infuriating?" you bit back, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him.

laughter bubbled up from mattheo's chest, filling the air around you. he found your defensive sass quite charming, even if it was just a front. you shut him down, not wanting the librarian to scold you for making noise.

"only around you, sweetheart," he answered, his voice low and husky, "you bring out the worst in me."

"the feeling's mutual, darling," you responded, staring at him closely.

the potions paper was already well forgotten.

mattheo gave you a wolfish grin and leaned into you, gripping your chair to pull you dangerously close to him, his eyes darkening as he looked at you.

"i think you secretly like me," he murmured, his voice dropping even lower as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "you're just too stubborn to admit it," he added.

you laughed in response, trying to act nonchalat as you whispered, "in your fucking dreams, riddle." you winked at him after that, biting your quill nervously.

"trust me..." you saw his eyes wndering all over your body, a predatory spark shining in them, "you don't wanna know the kind of things that we do in my dreams, princess," he said, his voice filled with a dark promise.

a light blush appeared in your cheeks at his sudden and blunt admission.

"of course not, you perv," you told him, trying to appear disgusted by the idea.

in reality... well... his words had you feeling all hot and bothered.

"don't pretend you don't like it..." he said in a husky whisper, "you're blushing, sweetheart."

his hand brushed slightly the soft skin of your thigh, his fingers tracing patterns in it. your breath hitched due to is action, but you pushed his hand away almost immediately.

"don't touch me, mattheo," you warned him.

despite your reluctance, you had to press your legs together to ease the familiar tingling between them. mattheo noticed the way you were squirming in your seat an smirked.

"stop resisting me, yeah?" he reached to grasp at your jaw a little bit roughly, forcing you to look at him. "you know you want me, sweetheart, i can see it in your eyes."

you gasped in surprise, looking up at him with doe like eyes as you inhaled sharply, suddenly feeling intimidated in his presence.

"now that's a pretty sound," he murmured against your lips before capturing them in a heated kiss.

his tongue slid against your plump bottom lip, demanding entrance as his hand moved down to curl around your neck. you whimpered softly, parting your lips just enough to allow his tongue inside your mouth. you grasped at his curly hair, your fingers tangling in his hair strands.

"that's more like it, princess... i was starting to get tired of all that fighting," he growled lowly.

his hands slid down to cup your ass cheeks and he squeezed gently before lifting you up so you were sitting on top of the wooden table. you thanked god that you both were in a hidden corner of the library and no one could actually see you.

"i still hate you," you pointed out, spreading your legs to make room for him in between them.

"yeah... you keep telling yourself that."

he grinned wickedly at you before leaning in to capture your lips once more, easing himself between your spread thighs. his hands moved down your hips in search of the hem of your school skirt as he practically devoured your mouth, making you whimper into the kiss. when he found it, his fingers worked quickly to push it up over your hips, revealing a pair of black lace panties.

"mhmm, you smell so good," he mumbled as he started trailing kisses down your jawline and neck.

you tilted your head to the side to give him more access to your neck and moaned when you felt his big veiny hands caressing your creamy thighs, getting closer to where you needed him most with each passing second.

"i bet you taste even better," he whispered against your skin before nipping lightly at the sensitive flesh os your neck.

he cupped your pussy through your panties, feeling your wetness seeping through the lace. his touch drew a needy whimper out of you.

"mattheo..." you breathed out, bitting your lower lip eagerly.

"so fucking wet for me, princess," he groaned, his fingers tracing soft cicles over your clit through the delicate thin fabric.

you gripped at his muscular forearm, your nails digging into it as you let your head fall backwards. you had to bite your lips to hold back the loud moans that threatened to escape your lips.

"mattheo, please," you panted while your hips bucked forward.

you needed more.

"please what, sweetheart?" he teased with a smirk, his lips brushing against your ear.

he withdrew his fingers to grab your panties and push them aside slowly, exposing your pink glistening pussy to his hungry gaze. he took a moment to admire your beautiful body, groaning at the sight of you.

"i need your fingers," you answered in a low whisper.

a smile curled in his lips as he leaned down to capture your mouth in another scorching kiss. his hand slid between your legs again, his fingers slipping through your soaked folds to touch your clit and swirl around it gently.

"such a needy little slut you are, huh?" he growled against your lips, his free hand grasping at your throat roughly.

you squirmed underneath his touch and your eyes fluttered shut. you didn't answer him, his assault to your clit was making your mind go blank.

"look at you," he chuckled lowly, his voice raspy. "not so sassy now, are you?"

two of his fingers slid down slowly to tease your tight entrance before he finally pushed them in. you let out a soft little whine as you felt the stretch from his long slender digits, your eyes rolling back.

"fuck," he groaned, pulling his fingers almost all the way out before thrusting them back in again, roughly, his grip in your throat tightening. "you like that, you little slut?"

you moaned in response, nodding, while your face scrunched in pleasure. your hips bucked up towards his hand when you felt his digits brushing your g-spot, which sent shivers down your spine.

"mattheo– fuck."

"you're dripping all over the fucking table," he purred, his fingers moving faster within you while his thumb circled your clit. "can't get enough of my fingers, huh?"

your mouth dropped open in a silent scream of pleasure and you opened your eyes to look at him. you could feel the coil in your belly tightening as he pushed you towards your orgasm.

"i'm gonna cum," you stuttered, your breathing coming out in sharp pants.

"do it," he ordered, his thumb pressing harder against your swollen clit as his fingers curled inside you to hit your sweet spot. "cum in my fingers like the dirty slut you are."

your whole body started shaking from pleasure when you came, your pussy clenching around his fingers tightly, and he had to cover your mouth to mute your loud moans so nobody in the library would hear you.

when you came down from your high, he slowly pulled his fingers out of your pussy, giving your thigh a light smack before capturing your lips a rough, mind blowing kiss. after he pulled away, he gave you a smirk.

"that's a good girl."

you fell limp onto the wooden table, your legs still wide open, as you tried to recover from your orgasm.

"get up," he ordered, reaching down to tug on your hair and pulling you onto your feet. you wobbled a little as he bent you over the table. "i'm not done with you yet."

you gasped and gripped at the edge of the table. you couldn't help but squirm in anticipation when you heard the rustling of his clothes as he worked to free his erection from his pants.

smirking, he forced your legs apart and gave you a sharp slap on the ass that left a bright red handprint. he rubbed the tip of his cock against your soaked pussy, teasingly, before slowly pushing inside of you.

"you're so fucking tight," he growled, one of his hands grabbing your hip, while the other grasped at your hair to push you back towards his cock.

you moaned at the intrusion; his big cock stretched you out to the brink, making you writhe in pleasure and pain at the same time.

he thrust into you slowly at first, letting you adjust to him, before he began to fuck you hard against the table. he turned you into a moaning mess in no time, which forced you to cover your mouth with your hand to keep quiet, your brow furrowed in pleasure.

"you love this dick, huh?" he asked between labored breaths, his free hand slapping against your ass cheek again.

you cried out at the spank, your palm muting the sound, luckily. you were unable of forming any coherent thought as he kept pounding hard into your aching cunt.

"have i fucked you dumb or what?" he mocked, pulling at your hair to make you look back at him, "answer me."

you whimpered, managing to reply, "love your dick... feels so fucking good."

as you talked, your pussy started tightening around his cock, announcing your upcoming orgasm. he growled, sliding his hand down your belly to spank your clit as he thrust into you faster.

"don't you dare cum until i say so," he ordered.

"please," you whimpered, his slap on your clit sending shivers down your spine. "need it so bad."

your whole body was trembling as you tried to hold back your orgasm. you dropped your head onto the table, panting for air.

"fucking beg me," he demanded, his fingers starting to circle tour clit.

"mattheo, please... please, let me cum," you pleaded in a whisper, whining pathetically, "i'm begging you, please... i promise i'll be a good girl."

with a smug grin, he thrust deep inside you one final time and groaned as your tight walls clenched around him.

"such a good little slut... a'right, you can cum now."

you came while you moaned his name repeatedly, trying to keep your voice as low as you possibly could. your eyes rolled back and your toes curled as your pussy pulsed so hard that you pushed him over the edge with you.

"fuck," he growled, pulling out of you and covering your mouth to muffle your moans as he shot his cum all over your ass cheeks.

while you laid on the table, completely exhausted and trying to catch your breath, he leaned down to kiss your cheek softly.

"still hate me, princess?" he purred, running his fingers through your sweat-drenched hair.

"fuck you," you muttered under your breath; it became clear that you were joking when you smirked.

"you already did, sweetheart."

#♡ ;; theosbaby #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo smut #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin #slytherin boys #theo nott smut #draco malfoy smut #lorenzo bershire smut #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #slytherin boys smut #slytherin smut

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lulunothulu · 8 months ago

Text

“Jealousy, jealousy” pt. 2

Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader

@86laura11: Oh my gosh. I want more. What’s next? Does Kate apologize to her friend? Does Tyler take her on a real date? I need to know.

Summary: After a night of pizza and talking, Tyler finally asks you out on a proper date—asking Kate to help you get ready.

Content: just cute fluff

Part one

Both you and Tyler finished off the pizza he brought in under thirty minutes, realizing you both skipped dinner. Now, sprawled across your bed, you and Tyler look up at the popcorn ceiling.

“That was really good,” he tells you. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

You groan. “I think I might burst.”

Tyler laughs, propping himself on one arm and facing you. Your hair was down—strew around your head like sun rays—and your face content.

You were goddamn beautiful.

“So I have a question,” Tyler starts.

You turn to face him, almost surprised that he’s as handsome up close as he was far away. You couldn’t believe this was happening, much less that he had something to ask you.

“What is it?” You respond, propping yourself on your elbow, the same way Tyler did.

“Well…I was wonderin’,” he starts, southern drawl catching on his tongue. “Would you maybe…whenever you’re free…wanna go out on a date with me?”

Your heart began to pound on your chest. Excitement and joy bubble up your spine and you smile at Tyler widely.

“Yes, I’d love that.”

“Are you free tomorrow?” He asks.

“I’m sure Javi and Kate wouldn’t mind if I skipped out tomorrow,” you tell him.

Tyler’s eyes widen, he forgot about Kate. What if you were still mad at her for what she did?

“Let me text them,” you tell him.

You:Guys….

Kate:Y/N…?

Javi:Are you okay?

You:Jake just asked me out…

Kate: HOLY SHIT HE FINALLY DID IT.

You: wait… you knew?

Kate: why tf do you think I was talking to him?

Javi: do I have to be here for this?

You: yes.

Kate: YES.

You: Kate, can you come over after the leaves in a bit? Also is it okay if I skip out tomorrow, Javi?

Kate: Sounds good.

Javi: Sure

You turn to Tyler who’s still watching you with a smile and feel the blush creep up.

“They, uh, said it was alright to skip out,” you tell him.

He chuckles, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Sounds good, Sweetheart.”

He rolls off the bed, standing in front of you to help you up. With his hand offering to help you, you take it and are swiftly hoisted up to your feet.

Tyler pulled you too hard though, because you feel yourself crashing into his hard chest. You look up at him, startled. He looks down at you, amused.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at 11,” he tells you, kissing your cheek before walking toward your door.

You’re still vibrating from his kiss when you realize something.

Did he say 11 as in, 11 AM?

“11 AM?” You ask.

Tyler just nods, winking your way and walking out the door.

Not even a minute later, your door rattles as someone knocks on your door.

You smile, walking toward the door and swinging it open to find Kate standing there, excitedly beaming at you.

“Oh my god! He just came from your room!” She beams.

“Yeah,” you say. “We had pizza for dinner.”

You let her in, watching as she takes a deep breath before turning around to face you. Her face is now riddled in remorse, brows furrowing together.

“I’m sorry,” she starts. “About making you cry.”

You wave her off. “It’s fine, I’m about to start my period soon. I’m just hormonal.”

“Are you sure?” She asks.

“I mean, the plan was to get me jealous. And it worked,” you laugh. “It worked big time.”

Kate smiles at you before shaking your head and pulling you into a hug. “I really am sorry.”

You hug her tightly. “It’s okay, really. How could I stay mad at you when I have a date with Tyler tomorrow morning?”

She pulls you back, smile back on her face mixed with confusion. “Morning?”

You only shrug.

———

The next morning, Tyler’s up bright and early.

10 AM to be exact.

He wanted to be ready for your date aaaand he still needed to get your number.

As quietly as he can, Tyler tiptoes to the motel door he and Boone share before opening it and sneaking out. He walks toward Javi’s room, knocking when he arrives.

Javi answers the door, rubbing his eyes. “Dude, what the hell?”

“Sorry, can I have Y/N’s number?” He asks.

“Did you forget to ask last night?” Javi smiles.

Tyler’s about to respond, but stops when he hears, “Javi? Who’s at the door?”

From behind Javi walks Kate, wearing one of Javi’s shirts. Tyler’s brows raise, a smile forming on his lips.

“You and Kate?” He asks.

“Here’s her number,” Kate smiles, handing him a piece of paper with your number on it.

Tyler smiles, waving them goodbye before checking his watch.

10:20 AM.

He figured he would go to the diner across the street for some coffee before texting you.

Tyler walks into the diner, surveying the place before stopping when he finds you sitting in the booth in the back.

You’re wearing a lilac sundress and your hair cascades around your shoulders as you sip your coffee.

Tyler approaches, a wide smile plastered on his face. “Well, what brings you here?”

You look up at him and he could’ve sworn you looked even more beautiful than normal.

Your cheeks are rosy, face covered in light makeup that accentuates your already gorgeous face, and your lips are a natural pinky color.

“Wow,” he gawks. “You—you look just…wow.”

You smile up at him and he could’ve sworn he melted away.

“Thank you,” you respond, your sweet voice singing into his ears.

Tyler clears his throat. “Are you ready?”

You nod, slipping out of the booth and watching as Tyler tosses some bills on the table.

“Let’s get out of here, sweetheart.”

———

Tyler drove you almost an hour away into a small town full of Gilmore Girls-esque house and people.

“I cannot believe you just found this random town,” you marvel.

You’d both been walking around town after a quick brunch at a local diner.

Tyler’s hand kept brushing against yours as you walked, looking at all the shops.

“Yeah,” he tells you. “I’d seen it a few days ago and thought it would be a great place to just walk around with you.”

You glance up at him, a smile already on your lips.

“You’ve been planning this for days?”

Tyler looks down at you, stopping to face you completely. He’s wearing his white cowboy hat, his signature flannel, and jeans paired with boots. He looks normal but different at the same time.

Yet, he’s taking your breath away.

“I have been,” he admits. “I’ve been planning this for longer than then to be honest.”

“How long?” You ask.

He rubs the back of his neck. “Since the first day I met you.”

“That was almost a month ago!” You laugh.

He only shrugs. “I knew what I wanted the moment you scowled at me from the back seat of your truck.”

You laughed, remembering how he had driven next Javi trying to beat you all in getting to a tornado. You remember his eyes on you and your scowl when he winked at you.

“I knew you’d be a tough one to crack after that,” he finishes. “When did you know you liked me?”

You grab his hand in yours, feeling the roughness of the callouses on his palm.

“That night when you came to apologize for stealing the tornado out from under us,” you reply.

Tyler laughs. “Yeah, I guess that must’ve sweetened the sour feelings you had about me.”

“Even more so when you told Scott off for yelling at Javi, Kate, and I,” you admit.

After Tyler stole the tornado from you guys, Scott was a raging mess. Angry that Javi didn’t drive fast enough, Kate for not sending the second one you could’ve gone after, and you for not seeing it on the radar.

Tyler walked right up to Scott, telling him to back off and you could’ve sworn your heart grew four times its size that night.

“Yeah,” he smiles, reminiscing on the argument. “I couldn’t let him talk down to my girl.”

You smile up at him. How could you have gotten so lucky?

“Well, I’m glad you did,” you whisper, watching as something clicks behind Tyler’s eyes.

His eyes search yours before falling to your lips. “Y/N—”

“Yes,” you simply say.

“I didn’t even get to—”

“Tyler just kiss me,” you order.

Tyler chuckles, pulling you into him and lifting you to his level. “Alright, Sweetheart.”

Lips connect with yours, sweet and soft. They move, urging to get to now every inch of them while you allow yourself to relax in Tyler’s arms.

When Tyler’s stubble tickles your nose, sending you into a little fit of giggles, he pulls away.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, still smiling.

“Your stubble tickles,” you laugh.

“I can shave tonight.”

You oil him back into your lips, pecking softly and then pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Only pulling away to smile at him.

“Don’t you dare.”

#glen powell #fanfic #tyler owens headcanon #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens #twisters 2024 #twisters

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 4 months ago

Text

Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part Eight

Summary: Jungkook's feelings for you have grown immensely and he can't hold himself back from being honest anymore. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 2.6K~ (I know it's short but it was at a good stopping point and I couldn't figure out how to continue it without a big time skip/harsh break so yeah enjoy this mini chapter 😅) Warnings: No warnings just fluff a/n: Another almost four months and I only have a little bit for you 😔 I'm still trying to figure out how I want to go about finishing this story (yes it's close to the end) so please bear with me 😪 but either way I hope you enjoy!

Ever since I told him last month that I didn't want to be friends anymore and by default telling him that I wanted to be with him things have been different.

We've settled into a new routine with the tension between us no longer burning to the point I shy away but something that feels natural, domestic even.

I guess you could say that's pretty obvious from the fact that we're living together but his subtle touches are welcomed and expected.

Things as simple as his hand on my lower back as he passes by or his arms wrapped around me from behind with his chin propped up on my shoulder or even a kiss on the forehead are all things that we've settled into and it makes me feel loved.

Love is still a scary word for me to think about or even say aloud but it's something I feel towards him, deeply, hopelessly, painfully.

At times I remember that things could suddenly change without warning. That he could toss me out as soon as he gets fed up with waiting like Jared did. That he cou-.

"Ow!" I cry out when he pinches my side, "What was that for?" I whine, the spot he abused already sore. "I've been calling your name for five minutes and you didn't respond so..." he chuckles and I hum, not having the energy to scold him further.

He wraps his arms around my waist and props his chin on my shoulder just like I had been thinking about while spacing out, leaving me relaxing into him, the feeling of being in his arms taking away some of the anxiety that had started to build.

"You okay?" he asks, placing a kiss on my cheek to which I hum again, nodding along with it. "You sure, because you've been stirring your coffee for the past seven minutes" he says, my hand stilling once he points it out.

I take a drink of the completely cold beverage and sigh in defeat, realizing that his words are true.

"I wanted it cold anyways" I mumble and turn to walk over to the freezer to add some ice, Jungkook letting go but still staying close.

"Something's wrong" he says after observing me for another second or two, very used to reading my body language. "Nothing's wrong I'm just...tired" I reply and the truth is I am.

"My internship has been kicking my ass and I don't know, I guess it's all starting to catch up to me" I relent and he takes a turn humming, knowing I'm not telling him the whole truth.

"You know you can tell me anything right?" he says, coming closer and cradling my face in his hands, granting him a sad smile in return.

"I know, but I promise I'm fine. It's just been a long week, that's all" he studies my features for a while and decides to take my word for it, seeing that I'm not ready to talk about it. He nods his head a tiny bit before leaning in and giving me a soft kiss on my lips, one that lasts but a moment before pulling away.

"You wanna watch something tonight?" he asks and I smile as my answer, making him chuckle. "I'll make the snacks if you wanna go choose" he offers and I nod, my face still cradled in his hands so he gives me one last kiss before letting go and leaving our source of entertainment up to me.

~~~~

As the movie we've already watched and fallen in love with plays Jungkook notices my absence even though I'm cuddled up next to him, my reactions being minimal to nonexistent.

The parts we always laugh at are met with the sounds of his enjoyment and not mine so he pauses it and waits for me to notice which I don't for a while leaving him even more worried.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours Bunny? Did I do something wrong?" he asks and I sit up, needing him to know that he hasn't.

"No, no you've been wonderful, better than I deserve honestly" I say, mumbling the last part but of course he hears it loud and clear.

"I'm good to you because I love you and you do deserve it, that's all" he admits so freely that I almost don't catch it.

"You...what?" I ask, almost too scared to breathe. "I love you" he says with a crooked smile, clearly enjoying my practically speechless state.

I sit there for a minute, stunned into silence, not having expected that at all but he just laughs. "What? You didn't think I loved you?" he asks, brushing a stray strand of hair off of my face, letting his fingers trail down my neck before withdrawing his hand.

"No...I mean maybe? Isn't it a little too early for I love you's?" I ask, tentative to say it after I had been burned by...

"I don't think so. I mean it might be forward but I've loved you for a long time and I've cared about you even longer. You're someone that has been a constant in my life for many many years and the fact that you've given me permission to hold you, kiss you...well it's something that I don't think I can hold back anymore" he confesses, making me feel as though my heart might explode.

"I-" "You don't have to say anything. Take your time and only say it if you truly mean it Darling. I don't want to rush you into anything you're not ready for" he says, chancing caressing my face again and rubbing his thumb along my bottom lip.

"Come here" he says and pulls me in, having me straddle him not for anything sexual but just for the need to hold me close.

I burry my face in his neck and he rubs my back, knowing that I feel vulnerable since although he's not rushing me, I know he'll be waiting for an answer.

"I'm scared" I mumble against his skin and he hums, understanding the situation honestly more than I wish he did.

He witnessed the ups and downs of the relationship between Jared and I and sat on the sidelines, knowing he could treat me better but caring about me too much to take away my right to make my own decisions and choose who I love even if it wasn't him.

"Take your time Bun. You know I'll always be here for you, no matter how long it takes" he reassures me of what I knew, making me nod and wrap around him even tighter, taking his words as genuine but still terrified that this could all slip away at any moment.

~~~~

A week goes by and I still haven't said it and it's killing me.

When he says goodbye he says it, whenever we've been intimate he says it, he even says it randomly just to try to make me smile but my mind won't truly let it sink in until I say it back.

"Baby?" he asks, knocking on my partially ajar door, seeing that I've been taking a little while longer to get out of bed this morning.

I hum and let him come in, trying to assess the state I'm in before saying anything else as he comes and sits down on my side of the bed, looking down at me and placing his hand on my waist. I'm still laying down, not having made an effort to get up just yet which I know worries him as well but he doesn't push me too hard.

"You not feeling well?" he asks, now going to check my temperature with the back of his hand but not noticing a fever of any sort making his theory very short lived.

"No, just tired" I say quietly, not having spoken a word since I woke up, my voice still raspy which I can tell he enjoys but doesn't comment on this time.

"You want me to make you something? It's already lunch time and you haven't eaten all day huh?" he asks, knowing the answer but still allowing me the chance to reply. "Yeah maybe something simple like a sandwich?" I request and he nods.

"Want me to get it from that sandwich place we love?" he suggests, rubbing small circles on my waist but I shake my head. "No I'm craving one of your sandwiches" I say making him smile, knowing one of his favorite forms of praise is compliments on his cooking.

"Okay Bun, the usual?" he asks, knowing exactly what I want but asking just in case I'm feeling like something a little different today but I nod my head in approval making him lean down and place a kiss on my forehead before asking if I want him to bring it up here to which I decline.

"I need to get out of bed at some point" I say and he shrugs, "You're allowed to have a lazy day every once in a while if you'd like. I could even come join you later on?" he proposes making me smile, in favor of his suggestion.

"Can we take a nap after lunch?" I ask and he smirks a bit, testing the waters to see what I'm actually asking for. "Just a regular nap this time" I roll my eyes leaving him sighing dramatically before leaving, telling me he'll call me down when it's ready.

Once he's gone the doubt that has been plaguing my mind comes circling back.

'What if he's just saying that to take pity on me? What if he's saying it to rush me into something I'm not ready for? What if-' I groan, cutting off the spiral that I send myself down every time I'm alone and throw the blankets off before going into my bathroom and throwing cold water on my face, glaring at myself in the mirror, daring me to keep acting like this.

He loves me. He loves...me. Why am I so torn up about this? People say it all the time so it's not like it's the end of the world. It's just that...well next time I say it I want to mean it.

The next time I say it I want it to be real.

I want to say it to the man that I'll promise to say it to forevermore.

Call me a hopeless romantic all you want but if I'm going to trust someone with my heart again I don't want to regret it...

~~~~

"Here you go Bunny" he says and places my sandwich in front of me. "I love you" I mumble, softer than I've ever said anything before but it makes his movements stutter.

"What was that Darling?" he asks, sitting down in the seat next to me at the table. "I um...I said 'Thank you'" I chicken out and although he wants to call me out on it he doesn't.

"You're welcome baby" he says, his smile a little brighter when he realizes that I'm trying, that I want to say it too but I just don't have the confidence yet.

"Anything for you" he finishes and caresses my cheek before getting up and grabbing his plate along with our drinks.

"You sure you're feeling alright?" he asks, my silence through lunch palpable since whenever he tries to start up a conversation I give him short answers that make his efforts die in his throat.

"I've just been feeling a little funky that's all" I say and he hums, contemplating his next words which surprise me.

"I'm sorry" he says, defeated and honestly quite vulnerable. "Why are you apologizing?" I ask, not thinking that he would have done anything that would require something like that.

"I knew you weren't ready and I rushed things but I wanted to be able to say what I felt for you because it was eating me alive. Having to cut off my sentences and not being able to speak my mind fully, holding you as close to my heart as possible but not being able to tell you that you had it in the palm of your hand already I just...I couldn't do it anymore" he says, his whole demeanor shifted into an almost sorrowful state that I can't hold it back anymore.

I can't keep hurting him like this when all I want to do is scream it for all to hear, even if the thought terrifies me.

"I love you" I say making his head pop up from it's drooped state, then feeling guilty and looking at his lap again as a result. "You don't have to say it just because I did. I just wanted to apologize because I know that that's was why you've been feeling so off lately" he says but I shake my head.

"The thought of giving my heart to someone again scares the shit out of me. After...well after going through all of that the thought of opening myself up again was not something I wanted to do. I will admit I sought you out out of lust at first but as our friendship and eventual relationship began to grow I realized that I cared about you a whole lot more that I should" I say, me now with my head turned down, not being able to keep the intense eye contact he's giving me, hanging on every word.

"I didn't know if you were doing these things for me because you felt sorry or because you truly cared. I know now that doubting your motives was honestly my own self doubt getting the best of me. You've done nothing but love and care for me since the beginning and I haven't let myself fully process the fact that I'm..." I cut myself off and take a deep breath.

"The fact that I'm falling in love with you" and although he said those words first the admission alone has me feeling as though he hadn't, as if he would change his mind now that I reciprocated his confession but he does anything but that, further confirming his true intentions for me as he pulls me closer.

He doesn't pull me in with a carnal passion in mind, he doesn't even pull me in for a kiss, he pulls me in and holds me close, telling me wordlessly that he's proud of me. That he's proud of me for taking that step, for trusting him with my heart, my mind, soul, fully consumed by him without abandon.

"Thank you" he whispers, his face being buried in my hair making me laugh at the ticklish feeling. "Don't make it weird" I say and poke his side making him flinch and hold me tighter. "How can I not? The woman I love loves me back" he chuckles and when I try to pull back he squeezes me tighter.

"Just let me have my moment" he huffs making me sigh and return his crushing embrace. "I love you" he says making me burry my face into his neck, mumbling it against his skin in return.

"Nah nah nah, say it like you mean it" he says, pushing me back just enough so he can look at me. "But I do mean it!" I roll my eyes, playing into his pouty act. "Come on, say it!" he says, pushing me back and forth, making me sway.

"I already said it, why do you need to hear it again?" I chuckle when his pout gets deeper. "Okay fine" I give in making his brows raise at my quick defeat. "I love you" I whisper in his ear and then run away, his hold on me having loosened from pure shock of my honesty, knowing now that I truly truly mean it.

"Get back here!" he scolds once he's come back down to earth, the surprise replaced with determination, his intentions being to not let me go til sunrise.

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chukys-mouthguard · 11 months ago

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What if?

Genre: fluff

Word count: 3,229 words

Featuring: matt rempe x female reader

Warnings: drunk guy being an asshole at the bar, aggressive/protective Matt

Note: okay, this is the first thing I’ve written in years, please be kind 😅 I just got a thing for this man now idk…feel free to send in some requests or let me know if you want more to this story? Not sure if it will be a one off or a little series

“Okay, how do I look?” You walk down the hall of your apartment, stopping to pose for Matt so he can give you his stamp of approval. He eyes you up and down, as if he is going to deliver some harsh critique. Your outfit is nothing crazy; jeans, a gray long sleeved bodysuit, black heeled boots, and a small cross body bag. With the New York City weather still chilly out, you figured it would keep you warm along with the alcohol you’d be consuming.

“Beautiful as always. But let’s try and keep the collecting of guys' phone numbers to a minimum tonight huh?” You laughed as you playfully smacked Matt’s arm. Making your way to the fridge to grab your High Noon you’d started sipping on before getting dressed. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous Matthew Rempe.” He shot you a cocky smirk as he leaned on the kitchen island next to you. “Me? Jealous? Never. Because I’m the one in your apartment and not them.” You rolled your eyes as you swallowed down the last bit of seltzer before unplugging your phone from the charger nearby. “Okay Mr. Chauffeur, let’s hit the road.”

You loved having Matt in NYC playing with the Rangers. The two of you had been best friends since you were teenagers, though you’d lost touch a bit once you moved to New York. Matt’s stint in Hartford allowed the chance to slowly reconnect, but having him now with the Rangers was even better. The two of you often spent nights at each other's apartments, going out to dinner, and of course you attended every home game you could to see Matt play.

You’d always had a soft spot for Matt. Sure he was a bit intimidating being practically 7 feet tall, his knuckles cut up or bruised half the time, and a black eye never seeming to catch you off guard anymore. But you’d gotten close enough to see the side of him most people don’t experience. Though you never imagined your relationship being anything more than what it was. Friends, and nothing more than that. But you couldn’t deny the way you had paid attention to how he’d grown into a man. He had outgrown his awkward phase, and you now looked at him and saw him as handsome, not cute or adorable like he was when you were growing up.

You constantly find yourself thinking, what if you weren’t just imagining things? When he spends the night and walks into your room wearing just a towel after a shower. The way he hugs you and lingers longer than just a friend would. The way he takes care of you when you’re drunk. Or nights like tonight, where he’s willing to stay up late to be your designated driver when he’s got an early morning skate and a big game tomorrow night.

Just one day, one day you’d love to kiss him and see what happens. Or flirt a little extra and see if he takes the bait. But you also don’t want to lose your best friend in the process, or be turned down and embarrassed for thinking he’d ever feel that way about you.

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” Matt asks as he puts a hand on the back of your seat as he looks over his shoulder, backing out of his parking space. It’s such a cliche action, but boy does he look good doing it, and your heart certainly skipped a beat.

“The typical routine. Start at Tucker’s. Then move on to 1989. Then finish-“ “At Coop’s?” Matt smirked as he looked out at the road. One hand on the wheel with the other resting on his thigh. He was literally in jeans and a hoodie yet somehow he looked just as good as he does in a suit on game day. “Either that means I go out too much, or you’re finally starting to pay attention when I tell you things.” “Definitely not paying attention, it’s you going out too much.” He laughed as you playfully punched his arm, pulling out your phone to text your friends that you were a few minutes away.

“So Cooper’s closes at 2:30, but I honestly don’t think I’ll last that long. Especially because someone has a big game tomorrow! And I wanna be well rested. So let’s plan for like 12:30/1? Is that okay?” You looked at Matt a bit apologetic, knowing he’d have to be up early for morning skate. But he was always adamant about driving you, no matter what time it was.

“Of course, you know I’ll be here no matter the time. I’ll plan to be at Coop’s around 12:45. I’ll come in to get you too, it’s gonna be cold and dark out. I don’t want you walking to find me.” You put a hand to his cheek as you make a joking pouty expression. “Aww, such a gentleman Matty.” He smiled at your touch, almost leaning into your hand as he looked back at you, “Anything for you. Now go on, I know the girls are waiting. Text me if you need anything, and I mean anything y/n. I’m not that far of a drive.” You let out a sigh as you undid your seatbelt, “Honestly Matt, nothing to worry about, I’ll be fine.” You blew him an air kiss as you exited the car, heading into the first bar of the night. Matt sat and watched you show your ID to the man at the door, waiting until he saw you get inside safely to drive away.

As promised, Matt arrived at Cooper's around 12:45. He was thankful that you and your friends chose to end your nights at a bar that wasn’t too crazy, but also not too crowded that he might be recognized. Just to be safe he threw on a hat to shield his face as much as he could, though the bar was so dark he doubted anyone would be able to make out his face in the crowd.

He handed his ID to the bouncer before making his way inside. He texted you a simple “I’m here”, you would know his typical meeting place and where to go. You were in the restroom when Matt texted, quickly replying “bathroom, be right out” before you sighed as you stared blankly at the wall. The line in the girls restroom always 100 times longer than it was for the guys.

Matt didn’t mind waiting, he checked some scores on his phone. Assuming that the line was long since girls love to use the buddy system when going to the bathroom. He scanned the crowd and enjoyed people watching, nodding his head and smiling softly as your friends gave him a wave from across the bar. He checked the time again, before glancing over towards the hallway to find you pushing past a crowd of girls to exit the restrooms. He chuckled to himself as he saw the frustration on your face, knowing you probably waited 20 minutes just to pee. He started to walk towards you but fell back as he noticed a guy stop you in your tracks.

“Can I help you?” You looked at the man a bit confused, you’d recognized him from the crowd of people, but hadn’t interacted with him much. He was out with a group of guys for someone’s birthday. You only knew that because they mentioned it to you and your friends at least 30 times. Definitely trying to help the birthday boy get laid. “I noticed you’d left your friends, I thought maybe my shot at getting to buy you a drink was gone.” You chuckled to yourself, why does this have to happen in front of Matthew?

“Oh, yeah, I’m actually on my way out. So, maybe another time. Sorry.” You try to excuse yourself but he moves with you, cutting you off. “Oh come on, one more drink isn’t gonna hurt anyone. Or if you want we could go somewhere else, just the two of us and get a drink.” He had a cocky grin on his face as you looked at him in disgust. He was clearly drunk, and wasn’t keen on taking no for an answer. You looked at Matt standing just a few feet away, a concerned look on his face as he wasn’t sure what was going on.

“Look, I’m not interested, okay?” He scoffed as he seemed to be a bit insulted by your comment. “Not interested, you and your friends were dancing right up against our group all night. I saw the way you were eyeing all of us guys, I’d say you were interested sweet heart.” You gagged at the smell of alcohol on his breath as he got closer to you. “Yeah news flash buddy, it’s a small fucking bar. My option was dancing right next to people or on the bar.”

As you tried walking past him to get to Matt, you felt a tight grip on your wrist pull you back, “That sounds hot, can you put on a show just for me?” His hands attempted to grab more than just your wrists but before you could react Matt was already stepping in, pulling the guy away from you and pinning him to the wall by the collar of his shirt. “Don’t you dare fucking touch her like that.”

You were a bit taken aback at the way Matt stepped in. Sure he’d protected you from dumb drunk guys before, but never like this. His jaw clenched as his grip tightened on the collar of the man’s shirt. “And what the fuck are you gonna do about it huh? What are you her little brother or something? Ain’t no way you’re banging a bitch like that.” Matt’s grip tightened on his collar as he pushed him harder into the wall, “what did you just call her?!” His voice louder, drawing a bit of attention, thankfully none yet from the bouncer.

“A bitch, and what are you gonna do about it?” The drunk dumbass laughed in Matt’s face and you knew this wouldn’t end well.

Before you could step in, Matt’s fist connected with the guy's jaw, causing him to stumble to the floor. Before pulling himself together and running off to the restroom.

“Fuck!”

Matt shook his hand as he winced, immediately realizing he fucked up but his anger got the best of him. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” You grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door. Thank god no one seemed to really notice the altercation that just took place.

The walk to the car was quiet as Matt was still fuming, you simply climbed into the passenger in silence. He gripped the steering wheel tight with his good hand as he peeled out of the parking lot. You sat next to him, studying his face to see when it might be a good time to say something. Blue and purple started to appear across the knuckles on the hand that threw the punch as he let out a large sigh.

“I’m sorry.”

You let out a soft laugh as you rested a hand on his thigh, softly holding his bruised hand, careful not to hurt him. “Sorry for what? You didn’t do anything wrong? You stepped in as I would’ve hoped you would the second that guy put his hands on me. Don’t be sorry for that!” He seemed to relax at your touch, so you kept your hand on his, slowly brushing your thumb over his skin to attempt to calm him down.

The rest of the car ride was quiet, the two of you heading back to Matt’s apartment since he had to be up early for practice. You kept your eyes on him, studying the look on his face, wishing you were in his head to know what the heck he was thinking. He took your hand in his as you two walked through the quiet parking garage, then headed up the elevator.

You knew your way around his place, first going to his room to grab an oversized t-shirt to throw on before heading to the bathroom to take off your makeup. Matt was sweet enough to go out and buy you your own toiletries to keep at his place. Including your makeup remover and even your 4 step skincare routine.

Matt came to join you in the bathroom as you brushed your teeth. He smiled at the sight of you as he leaned against the wall: your hair in a messy bun, his oversized Seattle Thunderbirds t shirt covering you up enough while still giving him a good view of your legs. “What?” You chuckled as you tried not to choke on the tooth paste threatening to fall from your lips. He just shook his head, “Just glad nothing bad happened to you tonight. I’m glad I was there.” He took your hand, his fingers fiddling with yours, “I just kept thinking what if i wasn’t there, I couldn’t handle it if anything would’ve happened.”

You looked at him in the mirror, relief and exhaustion covered his face. “I’m really glad you were there too, but I really hope we don’t end up with a possible scandal on our hands.” You started laughing as you exited the bathroom, Matthew following suit. “New York Rangers rookie Matthew Rempe gets in a bar fight over a girl.” You spoke in a sarcastic newscaster voice as you made your way to the freezer, grabbing a bag of frozen peas to tend to Matt’s fist bearing the proof of his heroic actions at the bar.

Matt chuckled along with you before wincing at the feeling of the cold bag on his hand, “If it happens, so be it, I was ready to knock that son of a bitch out after what he said to you.” You shot him a glare, “Matthew Rempe. Absolutely not, I am not worth you getting in trouble with the team because of a dumb bar fight.” He walked over to you, now the one shooting you a glare. His arms rested on either side of your waist as he gripped the edge of the counter. “Y/n, yes you fucking are.” You shot him a look as he swiftly picked you up and sat you on the island in front of him. A cocky grin coming across his face at how caught off guard you were, gripping his biceps tight as his hands now moved to rest on your thighs. “I’d fight 20 guys at the bar if they put their hands on you and said shit like that guy tonight.” His tone now more serious, his smirk fading as you two stared at one another for what seemed like an hour. The voice in your head screaming at you, this is your what if moment. Take it or leave it, but it may never come again. What if he’s trying to confess his feelings, what if he’s trying to make a move but he’s too scared. What if you just beat him to the punch. What if-

Before your brain could even rationalize a thought or an action, you felt Matt’s lips crash into yours. His hands cupping your face as yours snaked up his neck to grab a handful of his hair. The kiss like fireworks and a weight being lifted off your shoulders all at once. He began to smile into the kiss, before pulling away with a slight laugh.

“Oh yeah, that’s exactly what every girl wants. The guys she’s been dreaming of kissing to pull away laughing!” You rolled your eyes and frowned at him as a look of shock washed over his face. “Been dreaming of kissing huh??? I knew it!” You immediately turned red, covering your face with your hands, though Matt found it extremely cute.

His hands gripping your thighs before lifting you off the counter, “It’s okay, i get it. I’m sure there’s lots of girls out there who dream of kissing me.” “Matt! Shut up!” You laughed as he carried you down the hall into his room, tossing you on the bed while he finally changed out of his jeans and sweatshirt. “Hey, listen…if you’re interested, maybe we could work something out so that you can be the only girl who gets to kiss me from now on. How does that sound?”

You barely heard him, too busy staring as he stood in just his underwear in front of you. Your eyes tracing every detail of him before his laugh interrupted your thoughts. “Damn, one kiss and all of sudden you’re just head over heels huh?” You pull a pillow over your face out of embarrassment as you feel the bed sink beneath his weight. Matthew now hovering above you as he pulls the pillow away from your face.

He brushed some hair from your face as your fingers play with his chain hanging from his neck, “you really want to kiss me and only me from now on?” You blushed as he shook his head laughing at you, “of course you goof! That’s all I’ve wanted for like the last 5 years, probably even longer!” You felt yourself trying to fight a smile, though you were sure your cheeks were bright red, letting Matt know you liked his response.

He laid next to you as you continued to play with his chain, now resting on his chest. His thumb tracing circles on your thigh as you smiled like a dork to yourself, your heart bursting with excitement that all your what ifs had come true.

“So if I agree to this-“ you say up, trying to pull a serious face as you looked down at him. His hands still glued to your thighs, as if he couldn’t get enough of touching you now. “Do I get a cute custom Rempe jean jacket or something to wear to your games? Like I wanna be decked out and I want people to know that I'm the only girl you’re kissing from now on.” Matt rolled his eyes and laughed at your change of tone, as you babbled on and on about your ‘conditions’ should you agree to this. But he loved the thought of you in a Rempe jacket at his games, getting to see afterwards and kiss you like crazy after a big win, to have you be his biggest fan cheering him on every night. Even though you already were, now it would be more special.

“Listen.”

Matt cut you off as he pulled you into his lap, his hand pulling your face to his as he kissed you. This time the kiss was soft, as he took his time to really take in the feeling of finally getting to kiss you and be this close to you. “If you be my girlfriend, I’ll get you whatever jacket you want, I’ll get you the best seats at the Garden for my games, you name it. Just make me the happiest guy ever and be my girlfriend!” You laughed at how he begged like a little kid who couldn’t contain their excitement.

“Yes-“ you peppered his face with a hundred kisses, “Matthew Rempe, I would absolutely love to be your girlfriend.”

#i cannot with this man #told myself tkachuk was my one and only #but here we are #matt rempe fluff #matt rempe blurb #matt rempe fic #matt rempe imagine #matt rempe #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nyr

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sweetshuga · 6 months ago

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Roommates ✧ CS [Origin]

𓆩 Sweetshuga Original - Roommates 𓆪

Contains⚠︎ Suggestive remarks!, strong language!, pet names, mentions of taking pictures without permission + taking intimate belongings, mentions of masturbation, etc.

Word count. 3.3k (3367)

Notes. English is not my first language! Au! (Matt and Nick go to different universities so they won’t be apart of the storyline!)

[The fanfic of the same named blurb series -> Roommates]

Starting university was exciting, you got to live alone—well, not quite alone, you had a roommate. The dormitory rooms were fairly big so the dorm manager and uni employees, along with the majority of the students, decided to arrange everyone into pairs. Though, most of the pairs were same sex—to avoid any sexual activities, or so they said.

It was a surprise when you arrived at the dormitory and went to your assigned room – a key and your luggage in hand – and was met with a guy with shaggy brown hair and blue eyes when you opened the door. He looked equally surprised to see you, probably thought his new roommate would be a guy.

Sitting up straighter on his bed as he awkwardly shifted on it, "uh... so, roommate?" You nodded, slowly closing the door behind you and walking over to the other side of the room to sit down on the bed there. "Should we, uh, call the dorm manager or sum’?" he said as he rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost nervous.

"Yeah... we probably should," he nodded and took his phone from the bed beside him and called whoever was in charge of the dormitory. A few rings later, an elderly woman’s voice answered the call and the guy started to talk, occasionally glancing at you.

You took in the room while he made the phone call. One single bed on each side of the room, a small sofa and a study desk with a chair were the furnitures the dormitory provided. His suitcase and bags were perched beside his bed, along with a small box.

You suddenly felt curious, staring at the box and wondering what was inside before shaking your head slightly to clear your thoughts. After all, you didn’t want to come off as a creep by staring at his things so intently like that.

"What?" your attention averted to him when you heard the surprised tone. He glanced at you again and motioned you to come over to him. You looked at him in confusion, but stood up and walked over to him anyway, sensing it was something important. "Yeah? What’s up?" he just handed you the phone and you took it and put it up to your ear, confused.

"Umm, ma’am?" the woman sighed before speaking in an apologetic tone. "I apologize for the confusion and awkwardness, but unfortunately, we had so many students in the dormitory this year that it had become full. We couldn’t skip over someone on the list only because of their gender you see."

The woman paused before continuing in a more calmer tone, "but if you feel uncomfortable and insist on changing roommates, we can arrange you into the new dormitory. The downside of it, however, is that the new dormitory’s construction won’t be finished until February." You frowned, it’s August now so six months until the new dormitory is available? You couldn’t wait that long.

Sighing as you looked at the guy—only to have him staring back at you. "Sorry, is it okay if we call back after talking?" you asked, "of course, I’ll be available until evening so you two could come by my office to talk more if you want so." You muttered a "thank you" before ending the call.

Taking the phone away from your ear before you approached the guy to give him his phone back, accidentally grazing his fingers with yours and feeling a shiver down your spine. "So uh, you heard that too I suppose?" he spoke, idly fidgeting with his phone. "Yeah... Uh, you okay with this arrangement? ’cause I can’t really wait until February."

He seemed a bit taken aback by your suggestion, but finally spoke a few moments later. "Yeah, neither can I, it’s fine with me I guess..." his voice trailed off as he looked away, continuing in a quieter tone, "as long as you don’t feel uncomfortable sharing a room with a guy."

You couldn’t help the tugging at the corners of your lips at his consideration. "I’m alright with it," his eyes widened slightly, looking mildly surprised at your agreement, but nodded nonetheless. "Well, I’ll call her back, to y’know tell her about the agreement."

He called the person in charge again and explained our conversation to her, "yeah, thanks, that would be great, yeah, okay, yeah, yeah, have a good afternoon ma’am." You looked at him expectantly, "well, what did she say?" He looked at you for a few seconds, and you could’ve sworn his eyes raked your body up and down, but you chalked it up to your imagination.

"She said this’ll be an expectation and we should probably make ground rules, just in case or sum’," you nodded, seeing it was most likely necessary. "Oh and since we had such a ”disadvantage”, she offered us both discounts on campus lunch."

Your eyebrows shot up, a smirk creeping on your face in amusement, "yeah? Did you take it?" The guy chuckled, "of course, discount for a month, basically free food for a month, who wouldn’t take such an offer?"

You laughed softly, "Yeah, that I can’t argue with." Your laughter slowly ceased as you plopped on your own bed, feeling more relaxed and open after that little laughing fit. "So, Mr. Roommate, what’s your name?" The guy smiled, "the name’s Chris, yours?"

You told him your name, "pretty name," he commented, making your heart thump, but it probably didn’t mean anything, just a small compliment. He hummed, "mm, so, about the ground rules," you leaned forward slightly and nodded. "Yeah, probably should make ’em now."

He took out a notebook and a pen from his bag. Starting to scribble something on the notebook before looking up from it and at you. "Let’s start with something simple like... Don’t touch each other’s belongings without their approval or sum’," you nodded, "yeah, fair enough."

"Oh, and don’t disturb— no, don’t invade each other’s privacy, it goes hand in hand with the first one." He nodded and wrote it down, "alright, think it’s looking pretty neat, wanna take a look?" You stood up and walked over to his bed, leaning down to look at the list.

" 1. Do not fall for each other.

2. Do not invade each other's privacy.

3. Do not touch each other's belongings.

4. Don't invite guests over after dark.

5. Respect each other's boundaries.

6. Do not lie to each other.

7. Clean up after yourself. "

Your gaze skimped over the rules, and an amused chuckle escaped your lips as you looked at the first rule again, "Was the first one really necessary?" Chris grinned, "of course it was necessary, can’t have romance in the dorm, can we?" He said in faux seriousness until a wide grin formed on his face.

You couldn’t help but copy his grin, it was Infectious and awfully cute— no, no, let’s not think like that. You cleared your throat and spoke, trying to distract yourself from the bubbling thoughts, "so, what uh, you got a girlfriend?" You immediately pressed your lips in a thin line, eyes widening as you realized what you just asked.

Chris blinked and stared at you for a bit before opening his mouth to say, "uh, no, I don’t... why? You interested?" He teased, a chuckle escaping his lips as he saw your stunned expression. Your face flushed, not expecting him to tease you like that, stammering as you tried to backpedal. "No? That, I don’t know why I asked that, just ignore it."

As you two talked, you felt a shift in the mood. The awkwardness from before was replaced by a more familiar and relaxed atmosphere, and it made you feel all fuzzy inside. The way he laughed and smiled just seemed to make your heart beat a tad bit faster. You couldn’t possibly be falling for him already, could you?

Life with Chris as your roommate was nothing short of shits and giggles. He was a fun guy, and really good looking to boot. You couldn’t help yourself at times, staring at his profile while he was focused on assignments or when he was sleeping.

Even you knew it could come off as creepy, but what could you do otherwise? You had the privilege to see him every day, it wasn’t a surprise you took it to your advantage. He seemed oblivious to the attention you were giving him and it made you all the more encouraged to keep looking at him when he wasn’t looking.

Your intentions were pure—you just liked looking at him.

𓆩♡𓆪

Chris was the type to go out a lot. He had many friends, after all. "A social butterfly" some would say, and he would often be seen in parties. He wasn’t really a fratboy, but close enough for some to refer to him, jokingly, as one. He would laugh and joke about it as well, but you could tell he would get uncomfortable sometimes.

One day, you just couldn’t stop yourself from asking about it and he blasély replied with "Yeah, ’s just, most fratboys here are assholes, ’nd sometimes it just feels more like an insult than whatever they meant it as y’know?"

That made you like him more. It was bare minimum, but you kinda thought he was just another one of those fraternity guys with hollow words and dick brains. You felt a bit stupid for judging him based on his demeanor and looks, but it wasn’t an impossible scenario since he had many girls at his feet.

You were laying on your bed, phone in hand and earphones plugged in, when Chris called out to you. Your attention shifted to him and your eyes immediately widened. He had a towel around his waist and nothing else, his hair damp and small water droplets dripping down his collarbone and chest.

"W-what?" You dumbly asked, sitting up on your bed. "Have you seen my navy briefs?" He repeated himself, walking closer to your bed for some reason. "No, I haven’t? Also, wear some clothes will you?" You barely kept yourself from stammering and freaking out at the realization that he literally had nothing under his towel.

You looked away, a creep of pink dusting your cheeks as you cleared your throat, "it’s probably in your drawer," he sighed, "yeah, Sherlock, already checked it and it wasn’t there, that’s why I’m asking you," you rolled your eyes, "as if I’ve seen it."

"Whatever, kid, guess I’ll just wear something else." He mumbled as he walked back out to the semi-private bathroom, shared between you and two others. You breathed a sigh of relief as you slumped back onto your bed, "crazy, he’s crazy, absolutely nuts."

You mentally scolded yourself for getting horny over your roommate, biting your lips as you waited for him to come out of the bathroom so you could relieve yourself. A shaky exhale came out of your mouth when you saw him enter the room again, now clad in a black tank top and blue flannel pj pants.

You quickly stood up from your bed and stormed out, making a lame excuse about having a stomach ache. Once inside the bathroom, you made sure to lock the door and closed the toilet seat and sat on it. With uneven breaths, you started to touch yourself; your thoughts plagued by Chris.

𓆩♡𓆪

The dynamic between you two didn’t change, but you had started to develop feelings for him—romantic feelings. You tried to reason with yourself, telling yourself that he was good-looking and you felt a slight attraction towards him because of that but nothing deeper than that. You knew it was just a lie.

It had been quite a bit since you two started to share a room. Your 6th month sharing a room, to be specific, so it wasn’t unexpected when he suggested a small celebration. Anniversary of some kind, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t excited. You were thrilled.

You had already broken most of the rules – if not all – unbeknownst to Chris. There was only one that you hadn’t broken, yet. The last rule: Clean up after yourself. The reason you hadn’t broken it yet was because you were a bit of a clean freak, always making sure everything was in place and tidy.

Chris seemed to respect your will to keep things tidy and cleaned after himself as well. His side of the room was messier, yes, but he made sure to always keep it as clean as he could. You appreciated his efforts, but you couldn’t help getting drawn to his stuff. That mysterious box that he seemed adamant about hiding from you.

Your curiosity got the best of you and you approached his bed one day while he was gone getting snacks for a movie night for your anniversary. "It’s supposed to be somewhere under his bed," you mumbled to yourself as you crouched down, looking down at his bed before your gaze landed on the medium sized black box.

"Bingo," you chuckled as you pulled it out from under the bed, "I shouldn’t be doing this... but a small peek won’t hurt, right? I mean it’s not like I’m taking anything, just a look." You reasoned with yourself, slowly opening the box, your heart pounding against your ribcage in anticipation.

You almost dropped the box when you saw what was inside—various panties and lingerie along with polaroids were inside it. Polaroids of you, and your lingerie and panties. You put the box on his bed, looking at it in disbelief for a moment before finally regaining your ability to think.

Tentatively reaching out to take one of the polaroids for further inspection, you noticed most of them were of you sleeping and some when you weren’t looking. A chill ran down your spine, "what the fuck?" Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at the box, an uneasy feeling creeped up your body, but there was a strange excitement mingling with it.

You felt a strange sense of satisfaction knowing that he was obsessed with you, so much so that he had a box full of your pictures and belongings, but you tried to push away the odd feelings. "This is supposed to be creepy, hell, scary even... but why do I feel this way?" You thought out loud, looking at the box.

𓆩♡𓆪

Chris arrived back at the dormitory with two bags of snacks and drinks. A small smile on his face as he made his way to your shared dorm room. As he opened the door, he was met with a mess. Your lingerie and panties adorned his neatly made bed. The polaroids of you scattered all over the floor.

His eyes slowly widened as his brain acknowledged the scene before him. The bags threatened to escape his grasp as panic rose within him, and a series of panicked no’s rushed out like a waterfall as he entered the dorm room. Chris quickly put the bags on the study desk before he closed the door.

His breathing ragged as he gathered up the pictures and he suddenly froze, a hitch in his breath when he saw the note attached to one of the polaroids. "I know." What did you mean by that? His brain fogged as it tried to make sense of it. "Fuck, what does she... Where is she?" He mumbled to himself, fumbling with his phone before dialing your number with shaky hands.

Your phone rang on your bed, his head snapping towards the direction and only now he noticed your abandoned phone—perched on top of a small box. His curiosity grew as he hesitantly stood up and reached your bed. His hands shook as he took the box and opened it.

A gasp left his lips when he saw a small black vibrator along with a small note beside it. "Open me" written on it in neat handwriting. He gulped thickly before opening the note, and it reads as follows: "What a surprise huh? Well, here’s a little surprise for you:)" Just as he finished reading it, the dorm room door opened.

"Oh, you’re back already?" Chris blinked as he looked at you, taken aback by your casual demeanor. "Hm? Why are you looking at me like that?" He barely kept himself from stammering as he spoke, "why...? I mean, why aren’t you creeped out? I thought you would’ve already gone to the dorm manager, or worse, reported this to the police."

You shrugged, a small smirk playing on your lips as you closed the door behind yourself. Sauntering further into the room before plopping on your bed, looking up at him and chuckling as he stared at you like you were absolutely nuts. "What? You really thought I would give my precious roomie to the police?"

He hesitated, not knowing what to say – making you chuckle more. "Oh c’mon Chris, I can’t believe you thought that little of me," you teased, making him shift awkwardly on his feet, "yeah—no, I don’t think lowly of you, it’s just... I don’t know, I mean, you would— hold on." He paused, unable to make a coherent sentence.

He gasped, his body stiffening when you suddenly pulled him on top of yourself. Propping himself on his forearms as he looked at you with wide eyes, searching your face and his heart threatened to beat out of his chest. He could hear the pounding even in his ears, almost deafening.

"What—what are you doing?" He said shakily, his voice barely above a whisper as he tried his best to compose himself–only to fail miserably. His breathing was uneven – heavy – and his gaze darted down to your lips subconsciously every few seconds, snapping back up to your eyes to search them.

You were an absolute vision in his eyes, the girl of his dreams. It wasn’t a surprise for him when his body reacted to your proximity, his dick hardening and straining against his pants. He cursed at himself internally, wanting to kick himself in the nuts for his body’s betrayal in such a compromising position.

With the angle you were in under him, you could clearly feel his stiff bulge and a grin plastered on your lips. Chris groaned when he saw that damned teasing grin, biting his lips slightly and briefly closing his eyes as he tried to control himself. Only for his eyes to snap open and jaw drop a few moments later due to your hands fumbling with his belt.

"Wait, you don’t, I mean, are you sure?" He stammered, uncharacteristically nervous as he gently held your wrist—stopping any further movement. "I am, I wouldn’t be here otherwise," you chuckled, "if I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have you on top of me and my hand trying to unbuckle your belt."

With your reassurance, his grip loosened just enough for you to resume what you were doing. You unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, eliciting a hiss from Chris when your fingers grazed his aching length through his boxers. Smirking as you slowly teased him with your fingertips, not quite giving him what he wanted, but enough for him to buck his hips.

"Please," he whispered, his voice strained as he pleaded, "please, ma, don’t tease me." You saw no need for further teasing at his plea and decided to give him what he craved for—your touch. Gently pulling his boxers down seemed to make him shiver in anticipation, and your hand tentatively wrapping around his hefty length made him gasp softly.

His hips bucked shallowly, fucking your fist as he whimpered and moaned into the crook of your neck. Every noise from him and the squelching of his cock sliding through your hand made you grow wetter by the second. "Mm... Such pretty noises," you cooed, making him whimper.

Satisfaction and desire surged through your body as you relished in the control you have over him; the way he was wrapped around your little finger already. You smiled to yourself as you continued to help him jerk off, occasionally whispering praises and sweet nothings to him, and earning low moans and whimpers from Chris.

To be continued... 𓆩♡𓆪

#chris sturniolo #fanfiction #chris x reader #chris x you #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo fanfic #christopher owen sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #smut #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #fanfic #˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ sweetshuga ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖#— chris sturniolo ✧#— ۶ৎ roomie!chris .ᐟ

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rambling-at-midnight · 4 months ago

Text

Whatever You Need

Request: Jason helping reader through their period

Pairing: Jason Todd x afab!Reader

Summary: Your period takes you by surprise. Luckily, Jason's there to take care of you.

Word count: 1.6k

Sorry this took so long... I started four different Jason fics, which means none were finished. But they should be finished and posted sometime soon.

Sprawled on the couch in your pajamas, watching an episode of The Great British Bake-Off that you’ve seen at least twice before, you feel the first twinge of pain in your abdomen. You don’t think much of it at first, which is a mistake. There are still two days before your period is supposed to start, and you ate ice cream after dinner even though you’re lactose intolerant and ran out of Lact-Aid a couple days ago. You figure you’ll head to the bathroom to deal with the consequences of your actions if the need arises, but you’re too comfortable to move when the weighted blanket on top of you has a name and that name is Jason Todd.

You’ve been on bedrest (or couchrest) for the past week and a half after a bad fall in the rain during patrol twisted your ankle. It swelled to twice its normal size. The upside was that it happened during winter break so you didn’t have to make the choice between limping to class or skipping. The downside was that you wanted your superhero persona to have more of a presence with Gotham’s goons. As a part-time hero, unlike Jason and most of his family, you get much less respect when suited up than, say, the Red Hood.

As a contestant’s dough fails to rise and they begin to have a breakdown on the screen, your stomach cramps again.

Sometimes, if you ignore it, the pain will go away. You’re too comfortable to get up now.

To distract yourself, you run your fingers through Jason’s messy curls. He doesn’t have a wash routine, so they’re always frizzier than Dick’s, but you’ve never minded. He’s devastatingly handsome either way. At least like this he looks a little bit less like something come to life straight out of your fantasies. He’s just a little more real.

Jason hums sleepily and pushes his head into your hands, a bit like a cat nuzzling at you. It’s been a lazy day for you both. You’ve been in the same position on the couch for hours—you on your back, half-watching the show, half-dozing, and him on his stomach in the cradle of your legs, head pillowed on your stomach, not even pretending to watch the show, judging by his closed eyes.

Your stomach cramps again, and this time you feel it—the ache even lower, and a wet heat blooming between your thighs. “Oh, fuck me.”

Jason takes a minute to respond, still interested in your fingers that make his entire body tingle when you massage in just the right way. Then he cranes his neck up, brow furrowed and bottom lip jutting out with his confused frown. “Okay?” He starts to sit up, hands reaching for the hem of your shirt, but you draw your legs up and out from under him and roll off the couch.

“No, not literally,” you say through gritted teeth. “Fuck—did I stain the cushion?” It was no big loss—you’d found the couch on the side of the road and Jason helped you bring it up to your apartment and sanitize it—but a bloodstain would stand out on the light brown color.

“Oh,” he says with realization as you run to the bathroom and slam the door behind you. “The couch is good!” he calls.

Your pants aren’t. It looks like someone died between your legs. You’ve always had heavy periods, especially the first couple days, accompanied by strong cramps. If you get ahead of them and take pain meds, they’re not too bad. Sometimes you can even patrol. But playing catch-up with ibuprofen is a recipe for disaster.

The rest of the day is going to suck.

Because you always feel gross when you’re on your period, and because no amount of wipes would fully clean up the mess between your legs, you hop into the shower and turn up the heat until your skin is bright pink. Jason pops in for a second to drop off a change of underpants and sweats, then ducks out just as quickly.

Turning off the water starts the race against time. As quickly as you can, you apply your preferred hygiene product before any more blood can leak down your leg. Then you towel off and shrug on the new clothes. You still feel icky, but the new clothes and shower helped slightly.

Something sizzles in the kitchen when you open the bathroom door.

“Hey, honey,” says Jason without turning around, standing in front of the stove. He points at the table. “Meds and water are right there. How are you feeling?”

“Ugh,” is your response. You down the pills and almost set the glass back on the table, but at his insistent look, finish it off. Hydration helps with cramps as well.

“You’re two days early.”

“Well, I haven’t been patrolling. Exercise changes can throw my cycle out of whack.” You sniff. “What are you making? It smells good.”

“Chicken stir fry.” You peek into the pan and see broccoli, bell peppers, and a couple other vegetables frying with the chicken. The covered pan behind it, you know without looking, contains rice. “I also have ginger tea brewing.”

All of it, every part of the meal, is meant to help reduce your symptoms and pain.

You can’t help it. How is he always so thoughtful? You throw your arms around Jason’s middle and squeeze. So he can keep stirring the food, he shifts until you’re tucked beneath one arm. His hair is in complete disarray from your fingers like he just walked through a tornado. When he notices your gaze, red colors his cheeks and he flattens his hair down self-consciously.

You press a kiss to his shoulder, the highest place you can reach without stretching.

“Go sit down,” he pretends to scold.

In response, you lean into him, heavier and heavier, until he’s practically carrying you. Jason doesn’t even blink at the added weight.

“I plugged in your heating pad,” he says. “It’s right by the couch.” Another thing right next to the couch is a coffee table he stole from the manor when he was pissed at Bruce. On top of it is a bar of dark chocolate and a freshly-washed bowl of your favorite berries.

You kiss his shoulder again. Jason kisses the top of your head, then nudges you away with his chin. “Go. Sit down. Rest your ankle and your uterus.”

“That is not how it works,” you say, mirth in your voice.

“It’s how I think it works,” he mumbles.

When the food is done, he brings two bowls over. You lift your legs and he slips underneath them. He uses your shins on his thighs as a makeshift table, balancing the bowl between them, and absentmindedly rubs your weaker ankle with the hand not holding his spoon.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence as The Great British Bake-Off plays. You finish first, and as soon as he sets his bowl down, you sit up slightly and make grabby hands at him. “C’mere.”

Jason pretends to roll his eyes, but judging by the line of kisses he trails from your wrist to the inside of your elbow as he lies down, he doesn’t mind your bossiness too much.

You shiver at every brush of his lips against the sensitive skin of your forearm. It’s almost enough to distract you from the cramping that’s beginning in your abdomen again—a cramping that eases slightly when he’s atop you again, resting the gentle pressure of his weight on your stomach. Warm, fed, and with his weight on you, is it any wonder you fall asleep?

You’re only woken by Jason’s gentle hand shaking you, telling you that it’s been eight hours since you last applied your feminine hygiene product and you need to change it. You’re tired and sore and cranky, but as soon as you blink your eyes open he has pain medication and water for you to take.

You do so in the bathroom in a daze and tumble into your shared bed, tugging Jason in with you. He goes down easily, using his huge, warm form to surround you with his easy, comforting scent. You left the heating pad on the couch, but the thick arm Jason winds around your stomach does the job well enough, and you drift back to sleep quickly, never fully awake in the first place.

The next morning, you wake to an aching back and stained sheets.

You stare up at the ceiling and swear, which unfortunately wakes Jason, who lifts his head and stares at you, one eye still crusted with sleep. His curls are in wild disarray, one side flattened from the pillow and the other on end as if he’s been spending his spare time sticking forks in electrical sockets.

If the cramps have gotten to your spine already, then the next few days are going to be hell. And this was a nice pair of sheets! The blood had better wash out.

Jason grunts and lowers his head. “Everything we own is bloodstained, honey. Though usually it’s mine.”

You leave him in bed. Your hair feels way too greasy, and your skin feels tacky, and even after a half-hour shower, you still don’t feel great.

As soon as you step out of the bathroom, Jason is there with chocolate-chip pancakes he made himself, accompanied by a fresh bowl of fruit and more meds.

Emotion rises in your throat. You want to tell him so much, like that you love him even though you haven’t said it, or that you can’t fathom going through your period on your own anymore, but all that comes out is, “You’re perfect. You know that? You really don’t have to do all this—or stay home from patrol for me.”

Jason tousles his messy curls and shrugs. “Well, I’m gonna anyway. You need me, and I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

DC Taglist

@evalynanne @mismatchsposts @cliosunshine @fictionalwhor3 @bellathecatastrophe @lonely-star2044 @flanhog @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t

Let me know if there's anything you want to see from me!

#reader insert #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fic #jason todd x you #dc insert

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arafilez · 6 months ago

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SPARK'S FLY ㅤㅤㅤ☆ ㅤ — ﹙ SVT ﹚

FIRST KISS ㅤ,ㅤ with svt maknae line !

ㅤㅤ ᶻzㅤ( x reader ) 𓂃 ㅤ fluff ㅤ headcannonsㅤ warnings kiss ㅤ⋆ ( 20 / mem ) ㅤ❟❟ㅤ hyungz ㅤ .ㅤ library ㅤ svt shelfㅤ navi

— ㅤ LEE SEOKMIN !

You were jealous. For absolutely no valid reason. Your boyfriend acted in a musical, its normal to kiss the lead actress but still a small, irrational part of your brain was very jealous.

You look over at Seokmin who was happily collecting some snacks for the next episode where you knew the kiss scene was.

He smiled at you and you smile back trying to get your head straight. Technically you weren’t even dating when it was filmed.

You quietly skip through the channels waiting for him to come.

You feel a plop on the sofa and a hand around your waist and he excitedly asks if you could start it.

You cuddle up to Seokmin as the show starts determined to enjoy this and not think about his lips.

Halfway through it Seokmin has started to stroke your arms like he usually does but you feel stiff because you realised why you were jealous.

Maybe it was because you two haven’t kissed yet.

But the problem was that watching him kiss someone else might increase your desire and that would be wrong because you are the one who had made him wait.

Finally the kissing scene happens and you glue your eyes to the screen so as to not make any eye contact with him.

The episode finishes soon and Dokyeom grins and asks, how it was. Good, you reply and suddenly get up to not face him.

He gets a little confused at your behaviour and follows you holding you by your hand from behind.

“Are you okay?” he asks and you nod but he slowly holds you and turns you around.

“Are you sure?” he asks and you sigh saying, “Fine, maybe I was a little jealous that you kissed her, and I know it doesn’t make sense, because back then we weren’t even dating, but I just can’t help it-“

You shut up as you feel his lips on yours and let out a happy groan.

He smiles into the kiss, as his hands travel down to your waist holding you as close as possible.

You round your arms around his neck manoeuvring into the kiss. The kiss feels like you have reached heaven and you are not complaining.

You both giggle as you part as he says, “Maybe I should have shown you the preview earlier so I didn’t have to wait this long.”

You whine jokingly slapping his arms as he pulls you into another kiss.

And you realise maybe the jealousy was wrongly rooted as you delve into his lips.

— ㅤ KIM MINGYU !

Cooking with him was what you had wanted to do for a long time.

So when Mingyu was at home after long working days you two decided to cook together finally.

And maybe you were starting to regret it a bit.

Even though Mingyu is a very sweet boyfriend and always puppy-coded, he is a very strict cook.

So having fun quickly turned into you learning how to cook and diligently following his instructions on how to do the next steps.

You would be lying if you told you guys weren’t having fun but maybe throwing flour around while he kisses you was too delusional of you.

Because Mingyu is a cleanliness freak and a mess of the kitchen while he cooks is not something he would want.

After the initial process is done Mingyu tells you to rest while he checks upon the later ingredients.

You roam around aimlessly for a while and when you see him standing in a place cutting the additional ingredients you walk towards him.

Mingyu is surprised when he feels your arms creep around his waist as you rest your head on his back.

He is obviously flustered but he tries his best to hide it as he nervously chuckles and asks, “Everything okay?”

“Yes, of course,” you reply resting your cheeks softly on his back as you feel his soft breathing drum around his body.

“Okay,” he whispers back getting back to his work but his find fogs with the domesticity of the situation as he find himself smiling to himself.

Suddenly he turns back and holds you in his arms taking you by surprise as you stare at him with round eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers making you blush because at that moment with all the sweat and tiredness you were looking far from beautiful.

Mingyu doesn’t know where he gets the confidence from but he holds your chin lightly asking, “May I?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to talk and he kisses you like he has been waiting for so long. His fingers trace down to yours and entangle themselves with it.

Your lips fit together so perfectly it feels like you have been doing it for years and not just the first time.

Mingyu’s kiss feels like warmth just like him as you melt against him slowly loving how the world slowly dissolves into one big mush.

When you finally part your and his shy giggles fill the air in the warm hue of the room.

— ㅤ XU MINGHAO !

It has been a good fifteen minutes since you have been out, soaked in the rain, crying like a maniac at the park slide.

If anyone saw you right now they would surely call the police (or mental hospital.)

The argument was huge and without even thinking you had ran out in the rain and what hurt you more was Minghao didn’t even follow you out.

While you sat weeping in the rain Minghao frantically is trying to call your phone. It wasn’t raining when you left but now it is and it is worrying him a lot.

Initially he had wanted to give you your space but now he just wishes you home where he can hold you safely.

You finally notice your phone ringing but the caller brings out more hurt as you pick up and scream “No.”

Even though Minghao is taken aback by your behaviour he keeps calm and tries to explain it to you why you should come home and discuss you out.

You get pissed at his nagging and cut the phone, putting it under your jacket as you stare out to the blurry city lights.

Meanwhile your boyfriend frantically searches for an umbrella and runs outside to search for you. After a few turns he finds you sitting at the children’s park and a wave of relief washes over him.

“Come back, we’ll settle this at home,” his voice takes you by surprise but your being the stubborn person you are stay seated.

He exhales trying to persuade you once more and when you refuse he grabs your hand and pulls you up. You do not know where the strength came from today but he drags you back to the house.

All throughout even though you protest he hears nothing of it as he drags you inside the warm apartment and stares at you in defeat.

You are still crying but your wet figure twists Minghao’s heart in a way that hurts as he hugs you softly trying to calm you down.

You push him back taking him by surprise and start blaming yourself for everything before he can even say anything.

You keep rambling about how he deserves better and how you were bad at this and he had enough of it.

He stares at you for a while before pulling you by your neck and puts his face close to yours. It finally shuts you up as you stare at him in surprise.

“I am sorry,” he whispers and places his lips on yours before you can babble more. Your eyes widen in surprise but you slowly melt into the kiss that you had waited for so long.

The giddy feeling in your stomach stretches to an uncomfortable extent as you can’t help but giggle into the kiss making him smile too.

His fingers caress the cold skin under your soaked clothes as he holds you by your waist trying to be closer than before.

When you finally part he says, “Takes a lot to shut you up,” and before you can open your mouth he pulls you by your waist for another kiss right then and there.

— ㅤ BOO SEUNGKWAN !

You and Seungkwan sit on the roof quietly at the end of your homey date.

Seungkwan keeps talking about something that you listen to with an all-smiles face because he is so adorable while explaining like that.

You listen quietly to his yapping and dramatic story-telling a giggle passes out your throat at his actions.

Seungkwan thinks he did something wrong and immediately stops talking and asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, you’re just so adorable,” you laugh softly and Seungkwan is taken aback as he stares with his heated face at you.

“Thanks,” he whispers and puts his head down feeling shy and giddy from your genuine compliment.

“Wait, no, continue,” you say in shock when you realise and he stutters asking if he can and you nod excitedly.

That is how you guys end up talking for more than an hour on the roof and eventually from the sitting position you two slowly lie down beside each other.

After a while a comfortable silence falls over and you two stare up at the sky twinkling with stars.

“The stars are so pretty,” you sigh and Seungkwan agrees with a slight hum. Little did you know he was looking at you instead of the stars up there?

The wind blowing makes you scoot closer to Seungkwan who gladly welcomes you in his arms wrapping them around your shoulders.

Whether by coincidence or pure luck you guys look at each other and smile when it happens together.

You bite your lips looking at him as he keeps staring at you.

And suddenly you feel Seungkwan’s lips on yours softly kissing you. It feels so familiar despite being a first kiss that it doesn’t even take you by surprise as you kiss him back feverishly.

He lips taste like the wine you guys had before coming up and that just adds to the moment so well that you find yourself getting increasingly addicted to how his lips fit to yours.

His fingers slip around your own and holds them tightly as to never let go.

When you guys part, the haze of the moment settles in as you chase for Seungkwan’s lips once again.

Your brain feels mushed as you feel drunk on him and his everything.

And Seungkwan wasn’t any better.

The small giggles fill the air when you kiss him again and he wraps an arm around your neck pulling you impossibly closer to him.

— ㅤ CHWE HANSOL !

You and Vernon had planned on a library date since you both wanted to check out some newly released books.

Well only you, but we don’t talk about that.

You scan through the sections while Vernon quietly sits behind you admiring your love for books.

You gasp in surprise when you finally find the book you were looking for and excitedly get it down.

Vernon quickly came towards you and looked over your shoulders asking, “This is the one you have been wanting?”

“Yes, oh my god, I am so happy,” you giggle excitedly and then add, “But the other part is too high up on the shelf.”

Is there a stair nearby to reach the book? Yes. Will you use it? No. But Vernon doesn’t need to know that.

You purposely stand between him and the bookshelf and point at the highest shelf.

“Can’t you just use the stair?” he asks and deadpans as he points at it.

You snicker and purse your lips whispering, “Of course I can.”

“Or I can just do what you have been wanting me to do,” he smirks and reaches out for the book, easily bringing it down and holding it near your face.

“Thanks,” your face heats up from embarrassment and you reach out for the book.

“Not so easily, you wanted a book-boyfriend moment right?” he grins and you gasp not understanding how he knew that.

“Let me give you that then,” he replies laughing at your shocked face and inability to form coherent sentence.

He bring his face closer to you as you stare at him with wide eyes because never in your life had you thought Vernon even knew those.

“Are you sure?” he whispers once his lips are near yours and you somehow nod not even knowing how to form words.

Vernon presses his lips to yours as your back lightly hits the shelf. You close your eyes kissing him back with fervour loving the way his lips taste like him.

His hand presses down your cheek guiding you through the kiss while your fingers trace his arms as you two smile into the kiss.

When you part you giggle as Vernon presents you the book, “Here you go I guess.”

“I need something more now,” you whisper pulling him by his collar to kiss him again.

— ㅤ LEE CHAN !

You certainly did not complain though mostly because of his sparkling and hopeful eyes and how much he loves dancing and loves you.

Besides he was a great teacher. Chan slowly guides you through the steps and helps you with every posture and you let him do it patiently.

Also, nobody had to know you loved being held like this.

But as time passes, the choreography starts to make you feel hot and having him so close to you didn’t help it either.

You try your best to concentrate but his breath near your ear keeps being a big distraction as you diligently try to follow his instructions.

His hand placements also contributed to a great amount of the distraction factor as it does anything but help you focus.

Chan, however, doesn’t seem to notice your little ministrations as time went on.

“Is everything okay?” Chan asks after a while and you nod light-headedness seeping in as you somehow spell out a weak yes.

He nods and walks away for a bit to turn on the music and you find yourself getting some time to get your head straight.

As soon as the music starts he holds you by your waist and spins you around.

He guides you with through the steps and suddenly spins you around and holds you in place.

“Wait this wasn’t in the choreography,” you stutter out as you lock eyes with him and he smirks menacingly.

“But you weren’t following the choreography that well though, you were interested in something or rather, someone else,” he grins.

Your face heats up at being caught and you scoff, laughing at yourself.

But before you can react, Chan kisses you taking you by surprise. Your eyes widen and you freeze in shock not being able to react at him.

His lips are gone as fast as it came and it leaves you flustered as it was your first kiss with him and you couldn’t even comprehend it well.

You hide your face in his chest letting out a large groan as his laugh fills the room looking at your reaction.

He holds you close, still laughing at your embarrassed face while you whine how unfair he is for taking you by surprise.

When you finally get up he decides to say something that makes you even shyer, “Now can we get back to where we were? This time don’t be too shocked.”

ARA'S NOTES ㅤ,ㅤ"i swear maknae line will be out soon" famous last words. in fact, uni fcked me up so well. i am trying my best to release stuff omg !

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