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arlertwhore · 3 months

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pairing: paige bueckers x fem! “sneaky link” reader.

synopsis: paige & you find a new hookup spot: your parents' house. what else do you find? that the chemistry never left after all - you just have to get paige in the right space - literally. warning(s): smut, strap 😬, paige eats it from da back, dirty talk / fluffy pretty much, degrading, choking, idk bro this is from memory i didn't read it so 🤷‍♀️ find out yourself word count: 4.1k (SHESSH) Author Note: the anticipated part 6 that took forever to write because of terrible writers' block. the creative spark just isn't there for this series anymore, so this alone will serve as the conclusion to the series, however — i do have a draft i'll release that can be regarded as a part 7. thanks tons for all the support on something i played around with and got hooked on! love u all sm ☺️❣️

Being at the family home of the girl Paige was casually involved with wasn't exactly how she pictured the UCONN long weekend off going. She and the team had planned a series of fun activities, and although your invitation completely disrupted those plans, she couldn't say no. "Hello? I… Team's awake, I'm in the washroom, be quick."

You chuckle softly. "So I guess that means now isn't a good time to tell you you're coming back home with me this weekend?" Paige sees her reflection and watches her resolve surface, anticipating that you're going to try to escalate things back into what they shouldn't be, breaking down the walls she has up.

She scoffs. "Y/N, you know we can't do that." "I won, Paige, fair and square. You said 'anything', you promised!" you insist, taking advantage of the fact that as a competitor, she'll honor her word. "Yeah, but don't you think it's a little bit intense for me to meet your family? I mean, I just don't want to overstep any boundaries," she stammers, uncertain. You glare at your phone, staring at the wavering voicebox of Paige. "You realize I'm doing this for you, right? How I always am? And because it's too hot to keep banging you in your car?" you say firmly. Finding new spots for clandestine rendezvous was proving increasingly challenging. At least with the constant change of locations, sneaking around, and adventure, you could pretend to yourself that you were going on the first date you knew Paige would never officially give you. And if she wasn't going to give you that first date, the least you could ask for was a comfortable bed. But you knew her, you knew her rules, and the only thing you had left was that victory over her head on the club Friday, so you wanted to use it.

It falls silent on her end. Paige doesn't want to talk about your sacrifices for this.

For you and her. For her. You want to tell Paige how it affects you to be nothing but a secret to her, especially now that she's afraid of her team's disapproval and seemingly everyone else's, meanwhile, you bust your ass, comply, and accommodate everything that being her confidante requires, but for the sake of your own feelings, you know you can't. She will leave you. She'd made that clear from the beginning. Paige's commitment issues and seemingly inability to have genuine emotions for a girl are frustrating, especially given her actions toward you. Perhaps back then, before she forgave your sins against her strict rules, took your virginity, and got to know you far beyond casual, you didn't care. But now, you knew her well enough to trust her around your family and you couldn't risk losing the only person in the world who just seemed to get you. None of your 'close' friends, who didn't care for a thing to do with you, deserved to be the one you chose. Even if she sometimes treated you like you were nothing, you knew the only person for you was her. And plus, your parents were nice people. She didn't have to worry about judgment like she always did — I mean for crying out loud they raised you, nerdy, quiet, and a loner up until this point of your life. Male or female, they'd be proud to see something good with the person they put out into the world.

"This isn't... meeting your family isn't 'anything,'" Paige countered, hushing after hearing footsteps pass the washroom door. "And plus, we have shit planned for this weekend. What do I tell th—" Team. You roll your eyes. The team left, the team right, the team all around. You cut her off. "You're visiting your Grandma."

And again, you win. Still, Paige sighs. "This isn't exactly fair for you to just spring on me, y'know? I've been so hyped for the plans this weekend and you just... you ruined them!" You can hear she's serious, her tone half angry yet delivered with a lightheartedness that doesn't ease the blow of her words. All you did was invite her to come home with you, supposedly 'ruining' her plans. You retort, "Ruining? Jeez, thanks, Paige." "Yeah!" she refutes, still trying to whisper. You giggle, then mutter provocatively, "Should've eaten my pussy better, loser," knowing it'll halt her momentum. You gloat, "Gosh, how do you fail at something as easy as that? Something you've been doing since you were 16!" The banter continues. "You'll change your mind on that soon," she predicts.

You chuckle confidently. "We'll see about that, peanut butter. Bags packed, 10 am sharp. Don't keep me waiting, loser," making your point clear.

You end the call with Paige and smirk to yourself, feeling a mix of anticipation and defiance. You can't believe how much of a rebel you've become, just as Paige can't—once so pristine when she first met you, she's corrupted you to the point of using your parents' place as a sneaky link spot. But with you guys left rendered optionless, Paige's next move was to fabricate a story about picking up her clothes if their shared app alerted her location. However, the plan was soiled with the early arrival of your new roommate, a freshman named Maggie, and you had no choice but to evacuate Connecticut altogether, returning to your place in the city just over; calmer, more serene, and familiar. You quickly text your parents: "Bringing a friend," before rushing off to pack. You'll try to keep them out of your hair as much as possible. It's only a 4-day stay, and they're both very schedule-oriented people, so you anticipate that you and Paige will have the house to yourselves mostly. Just as you're about to finish packing, you recall the strap and text Paige again, sending a picture of you holding it with the caption, "Bring??" She ignores your question about the strap and instead frets like she did the day you first showed it to her, as if she has a big performance the next day. She texts you back:

"Should I dress girly? Do I bring a gift? Are you sure they're okay with us?" She's overwhelmed with uncertainty, unsure of how to navigate this new territory, but you don't give her any tips because Paige needs to figure it out herself. You know it's how she's always rolled, relying on herself. You ignore her and continue, "Sooo, strap on or not? I'd love to try it out on you finally.☺️"

"Now especially no," she shoots back. Then she follows up, cryptically, "You're not the only one with surprises. Trust me. We won't need it." At that remark, you hop into bed eagerly and await sleep, yearning for the day to arrive faster. You stop thinking obsessively about why she won't let you use it on her, and it's the last thing on your mind before you doze off. At 9 AM, you're awake, welcoming your new roommate Maggie, and by 10, you're out and at Paige's dorm. She's waiting outside, readied. She doesn't know how to not dress like a tomboy, so she's awkwardly masculine, but now in pink, and the sight throws you off guard. You thought she'd figure her shit out better than that, and you laugh as you film her, to use it as blackmail in case she ever leaks the many pictures and videos she has of you (which you know she won't). When she climbs into the car after stowing her bag in the backseat, she grabs your wrists and uses her strong grip to hold them in one hand as she deletes the videos, uttering, "Think you're funny, huh, ma?" "No... I think you are," you chuckle, and Paige pushes you away playfully by the forehead. You tease her relentlessly, the amusement of your time with her just beginning and already infectious. She rolls her eyes, shaking her head at your immaturity with a shy smile on her face. "I can't believe I agreed to this," she grumbles and you echo the words from last night, chortling, "You had no choice, remember, Paige Puckers?" a play on words at how she drunkenly, clumsily, and messily explored a tactic that, while it did get you off eventually, was hard to get the hang of at first. She smirks and you see the challenge in her eyes. "I'll make you eat those words, ma, just watch." As you guys veer off, Paige takes control of the music and begins shedding layers until she's left in just the pink flannel, a sports bra, and basketball shorts, feeling overheated. She's so absorbed in the music that when you arrive, she doesn't notice she's partially undressed until the door swings open to your parents, and she quickly tugs the flannel over her body tighter. She watches with a smile as you hug your mother warmly, while Paige stands back, observing. "And you must be the friend she spoke of!" your father extends his hand for a shake, and Paige reciprocates, resisting the urge to give him a fist bump, as that's all she knows. "Paige," she replies calmly, "It's nice to meet you, sir. And Ma'am," she nods to your mother afterward, who smiles before stepping aside. "Well, come on in, girls, this heat is stifling." You all sit down with a cold pitcher of iced tea after bringing your bags up to your room. As you settle at the kitchen island, your parents strike up a friendly conversation with Paige across from you.

You start to regret the whole situation when your mom and Paige hit it off too well, and your mom embarrasses you. "Y'know, it's about time I met a friend of hers, Paige. You're the first; she's never really had any," your mom remarks, and you feel yourself blush. "Mom!" you interject, embarrassed.

"No, no, let her. You've been teasing me all day, you deserve it," Paige chimes in with a chuckle, playfully slapping her knee. "So, I hear Paige plays basketball, Y/N. Seeing as she's never really been the athlete type, you know, more of a bookworm? How did you two meet?" she inquires. You grow hotter, not good for the warm weather. You can't tell your Mom & Dad that: "Hey Mom, I got hammered at a party for the first time, drunkenly approached Paige's friends, and ranted to them about how I would marry her, then made out with her in the bathroom before proceeding to let her fuck me within an inch of my life the following weekend." You were still their little, strange, friendless, and focused girl. "Things just clicked," Paige answers, PG'ing and summarizing the story. "She was just... looking like the life of the party, and I thought she looked fun, so I wanted to get to know her." "Did you find out that looks are deceiving?" your mom asks again, and Paige is genuinely and seriously laughing—not the "haha parent way," but actual laughter. When even your father chimes in and says, "I bet she forces you to practice Telekinesis and stuff like that, huh?" is when you truly decide you won't tolerate the bullying. "Cytokinesis, Dad," you correct as you get up. "And I study developmental biology now. That Bio for children." And besides, you didn't want Paige to get too close to them anyway—just close enough to exist in their house unbothered.

We're gonna go pick you girls up some dinner!" said your mom cheerfully. "We'd love you to join us."

Paige begins to say yes, but you interject, "Actually, we're gonna have a nap. The ride was exhausting." She doesn't budge, so enthralled with your parents that she isn't catching on until you have to gently pull her out of her chair, trailing off with her as she calls back to your mom who had asked, "Paige, what do you like?"

"Y'alls sense of humor!" she chuckles, because Paige just gets her (they enjoy teasing you together).

"Okay, girls, don't nap too hard!" jokes your dad, and before the door can even close, you're kissing Paige deeply in the upstairs corridor, trying to make her forget everything she'd been told. Napping is the last thing you'll be doing. Her hand comes to your chest, attempting to push you away, but you're resilient and hold her with determination as you back her into the doorframe of your bedroom. "Since when were you such a scaredy pants?" you tease as you strip off your clothes, not bothering to lock the door. "We've been walking around in public everywhere these days, and inside is when you get nervous?" Within seconds, before Paige even shuts the bedroom door behind her, you're naked against her, pressing your tits against hers firmly as you shower her with a barrage of kisses. "Gonna make me eat my words still?" you challenge her. Paige slowly realizes you weren't joking about just wanting a comfortable place to have sex with her, and that it was the primary purpose of her visit. She still can't shift gears because she'd been with your parents just a moment ago, and now you're in this intimate moment. So you help her.

"Because it looks like I'm making you eat yours." you smirk at her teasingly. Before you know it, you've pumped the gas so hard she has you turned over on all fours on the bed, back arched invitingly. She wastes no time with you, and despite your usual verbosity, the way you yield to her the moment her tongue delves into your cunt is undeniable. You press back into her face, enveloping her between your thighs and asscheeks, and Paige thinks if she's going to go, she wouldn't have it any other way. You whimper softly in pleasure, squirming as you press against her warm tongue, and Paige chuckles, the vibrations from the deep shrill causing you to jolt forward, feeling the hum pulsate through your pussy hauntingly. "Aw, shit, Paige, you get me so wet," you moan desperately, "You make me so crazy, fuck." The thrill of the moment is evident in her eyes, wide with desire as she gazes at you from above her. You look back at her below you, eyes lidded and mouth parted in an 'o', and you look pornographic. It's sick, really, to think how just moments ago she was conversing with your parents, and now, here she was, tounge enamored filthily in your cunt, savoring every drop of arousal from your desperate dripping hole. "Your pussy tastes so good," Paige murmured, her lips puckering as she spoke before gently nibbling at your clit, swirling her tongue around the pearl in a circular motion, which you absentmindedly replicate with your finger as you gripped the sheets, groaning deeply. Maybe after all, you did like the plump of her lips encasing you as her tongue worked at your clit fervently, making soft wet noises. "Shut up, Paige," you said, "You're gonna-I'll cu-" you're too prideful to say it could EVER happen that early, and just continue to grind your hips against her pretty face, not bothering to ask how she's holding up. Judging by the way she slurps at your clit voraciously, her tongue eagerly scrambling from the front to the back of your cunt, clit to entrance, laving through it hungrily each stroke of the muscle and eliciting the nastiest and most repulsive sounds you've ever heard, yet somehow the sexiest, you have reason to believe she's doing just fine. And you tell her how fine she's doing through a broken, fucked out, and breathless assurance of, "Y'so good, P," biting your lip as you whine your hips languidly, whispering, "Keep going, please." She pulls back, struggling to find her breath. "You're a fucking—" she gasps for air, "You're a slut." The way she says it leaves you aching for more devaluing words, because when Paige utters them, it sends you into a frenzy unlike anything else. In the haze of it, you plead, "Shit, just fuck me, I... fingers, I need them." She rises from her knees. "Say it," she demanded, smacking your ass, and meeting your gaze. "Tell me what you are." You don't have a chance to answer before she presses you down hard, into the mattress, and you gasp at the intense pressure, feeling your cheeks flush impossibly hotter. "A slut," you strainedly admit, the pressure on your back knocking the wind out of you. The words, though so sexily demeaning, are true at the moment.

She's pummeling you in your childhood bedroom and has the audacity to demand sharply, "Louder!" as she presses you down, causing the ache in the first place. You fight for breath, complicitly declaring, "A slut, Paige, mmph!"

You should've known you were in for a ride the moment Paige fell silent. Arms pinned behind your back in between her palms, you squirm at the feel of something much thicker than her fingers rimming against your cunt, and you can't see it, so you start to panic. You can only feel it. It's so large you fear it might break you, and before you can say anything, Paige has eased the tip inside you with a dazed sigh. Your head crooks back to watch her face as she sinks her cock into you, and it makes her heart jump because it's a little too intimate and it reminds her of the first time ever. Still, she doesn't attempt to break it. It's sexy to both of you and it's not often that it happens. She's typically invested in gazing at your body or your lips, or just has her eyes closed, but the look in her eye as she leans forward is intense, and the one in yours gets Paige wetter at the mere sight. She's so satisfied by how you have no choice but to yield and take it, take her - until your body involuntarily starts to falter, punctured by the weight of it pulling you down from inside your body. "So...fuckin'....sexy," she moaned, her free hand gripping your hips and reigning them back as her own pressed forward simultaneously, fucking you thoroughly. She repeats the act, pulling you back and pushing forward until she thrusts particularly hard, and gasps herself. It's genuine, and you're unsure how to react to hearing her moan so sincerely. You simply nod approvingly. "I love how you sound when you fuck me, P," you encourage her, to which she replies, "I love how it feels when I fuck you, baby," "Then don't stop," you cry as you rock forward, slots of arousal pulsating from your core and coating her strap in opaque white. "I'd never want you to." It's insane how when she releases your wrists and manages to sink into you fully, she begins using your body like a toy, ruthlessly owning your cunt with grunts of satisfaction each time your ass claps against her, your skin clapping together. "Such a tight little pussy, God," she praises, watching the sight of your cunt expanding and then resetting with how thick she is, struggling to not get wrecked. With how this strap is made, when you come back against her, she feels every sensation, each thrust pushing the double-ended dildo deeper inside of her as it slides in and out, quicker when you fuck her back. So she might be using you like a fleshlight for the tip to rub the walls of her G-spot, but you can't blame her. She's doing all the work. You lie there helpless and overwhelmed with pleasure as she hammers into you from behind, pulling you back by your hair to meet her gaze, so you can see her and the way she wrecks you proudly. "Fuck yourself on it, angel, please," she pleaded, and it's sweeter than the sinful look she's giving you. Experimentally, you push back hard, meeting her strokes, and she whimpers directly in front of your face, a high-pitched, desperate sound that emerges from deep within her body. "Please," she begged again, "You're gonna make me cum, aw fuck, baby," Your eyes roll back into your head. At the tempo you set for yourself to feel good and the one Paige sets for you to make HER feel good by throwing it back on her, essentially for you, you feel your climax on the horizon. "I want it, Paige, cum with me," you plead. "Yeah?" she grunts, her voice gritty. "You want P's cum? Think you deserve it?"

"I-I do." "Then fuck it out of me," she commands, hands tightening around your waist and pulling your back flush against her chest, essentially hugging you as you rut against her, crying out her name with each movement.

She grips your tit in one hand, squeezing gently and pulling, "Go, baby, yeah.. just like that, make me cum," and though she's trying to steady it, you hear how her voice cracks a couple of times. It sounds so sexy and it gets so raw that it gets to the point where you're actually throwing it back, popping your hips and whining it so quickly Paige can't even help you move faster for both of you. She can't catch your ass as it bounces so vigorously, the visual mesmerizing as she watches. "Don't stop, ma," You're trembling, toes curling uncontrollably as you whine and whimper and grind against her. "I'm close!" you gasp, and just as Paige speeds up, the front door opens downstairs, and her hand flies up to your neck, silencing you, her other hand muffling your sounds. You reach your climax with no air left in you as footsteps approach up the stairs, and you shout into a pillow. Paige is quick enough to press your face into said pillow by this point and finish both of you off, her body pressed against yours as she huffs into your ear. You swear you hear her say it, even if she'll try to deny it later. "You're mine, fuck," as she cums, panting. You lay there, Paige on-top of you, flush against your body, limp.

And for a moment, the world stills, your hearing muffles, but you can still hear your Dad knocking carefully. "Still asleep girls?" he asks. Paige nods, smiling. "Yeah! If it's okay, we're gonna head for a walk before dinner. Y/N needs to wake up!" She's right — you're so overwhelmed that you find yourself outside, dressed, sitting on a bench in your neighborhood park. Yet Paige is still clinging to you for reasons you can't quite grasp.

The gentle, refreshing breeze envelops you both, the park empty and serene. Lost in each other's embrace, you finally pull away, the words tumbling out: "That felt like the first time, kind of."

Perhaps it had considering the two of you finally got to do something more sexually exciting in behest of maneuvering sex in her car.

Paige's response helps it all make sense. "I know." She might be swept up in the moment, but you don't protest. If it feels good, it does, and you eagerly pull her back in as she grips your sore ass, moving you over her lap to straddle her, kneading it. "I bought you...my strap as a gift because I wanted to thank you for, you know, how good of a...link you are," she says affectionately. You gaze deeply into her eyes, refusing to let her look away as you study her face.

She's so serious and so stupid for choosing to get in her feelings while at your parents' house for the week - with you. "What?" she asks intently, eyes tracing over your face as she searches for your reaction. "Is that-... Are you okay?" When you don't answer, lost in the post-coital haze, smiling softly, she murmurs, "So pretty." She doesn't even try to hide she's in the ropes of it too, but while out of the haze, she doesn't think there's ever been a moment when she's seen you look as beautiful as you do when you're in this blissful state.

"Paige?" you whisper, head buried in the curve of her neck as she moves to gently stroke your back soothingly. "Yeah?"

"Do you feel this too?" The question is extremely raw, earnest, and vulnerable, but under the spell of the moment, it sounds like magic to her ears. "Yeah, I... yeah."

"Have you felt it before?" you inquire softly, searching her eyes. "Besides the first time? Because I... I have. I do."

She holds you tighter, placing you back into the crook of her neck, and you suppose she's ducking from letting you see her when you feel her nod. "You're gonna get me in trouble, y'know. You always do."

You smile softly, kissing her soft skin. Little does she know, you already have. MASTERLIST

AUTHOR NOTE #2: this ending i think can cap off the series perfectly because it's left up to the interpretation of the reader. i mean, lmk if i should release the pt 7 draft when i start releasing drafts anyway! lmk anything on your mind I LOVEE you anons / moots / ppl who message me / ppl who reply to my posts, ur all the funniest ppl ever! - ana.

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natalieironside · 11 months

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(icon by @neladoesart)

Hi! I'm Natalie. I'm trans of gender and ace of sexual and I write dark fantasy and dark sci-fi adventure stories full of boners and thud-and-blunder action violence wherein no swash remains unbuckled, nor pot unboiled. I also blog about books and history and languages and I write essays and poetry sometimes, and don't forget about the many exciting Age of Empires 2 scenarios available at Natalie's Cool Website.

You might have heard my short story The Wishing Tree on the Tales to Terrify podcast! (now available as a zine from Grinning Kitten Press). Other stuff I’ve published to date includes:

THE LAST GIRL SCOUT: A post-apocalyptic wasteland adventure story and transbian romance about two women who fall in lesbians together and fight Nazis and draculas in the bombed-out ruins of Old America

LEAD AND ROSES: LOVE SONGS AT THE END OF THE WORLD: A collection of short fiction set within 23rd-century post-nuclear wasteland we’ve all come to know and love

IN THE COURT OF THE NAMELESS QUEEN: A collection of dark fantasy f/f erotica about sexy swashbuckling swordswomen (both cis and normal) and a giant scary monster lady in a far-off realm of adventure and dark magic.

If you're curious I'd really like it if you'd check out my Patreon because there's even more fantabulous treasures on there and you can subscribe for the low, low price of just one American dollar. Your one American dollar will go toward the ever topical "Natalie can make rent and doesn't starve" philanthropy fund.

I'm gonna stay here on Tumblr until they forcibly remove me from the premises, but I'm also on Pillowfort, Bluesky, and Cohost

#rebagel

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newobsessionweekly · 6 months

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To protect and to love

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist

Tim Bradford x rookie!reader Fandom: The rookie

Summary: You unintentionally make Tim jealous, resulting with nothing good but a confession.

Action | Angst | Fluff

A/N: It's a long one I know. But I HAD to put some action and angst in it, i couldn't help it. Honestly I love it and I love to write about Tim. I hope you like it as much as I do. Have a wonderful day bubs and take care of yourselves. Lots of love

Warning: Mention of hurting, one "fucking" slipped somewhere in this, not proofread yet.

Requested: Yes Words: 4.4k GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

The atmosphere in the bar was alive with the buzz of conversation and the clinking of glasses as you settled in with your colleagues. It was one of the many nights you and the rookies met after a long shift. It was some bond between the four of you even since academy and it felt nice. They started to feel like a family to you.

As Nolan approached with three drinks in his hands, the fourth person occupied the chair beside you, making your mouth to open in surprise and your heart to race. Tim, looking so perfectly even out of his uniform, so casually in his clothes, wearing the same grumpy expression.

"Oh, sorry sir, didn't know you'd join us today." Nolan excused himself for ordering only three drinks.

"Yeah, didn't know I'd be here either." Tim murmured under his breath, giving you an acknowledging smile. After weeks of persuasions from both you and Lucy, he finally gave up.

"I'm glad you came." you told him as you turned to give him a smile. He did the same, but it wasn't a natural one.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it. This isn't really my scene." Tim admitted sharply, the wave of adrenaline and excitement that flowed over you, broke as soon as his grumpy expression appeared.

"So, Tim, what do you usually do after work?" Lucy asked, flashing him a mischievous grin.

Tim shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. "Usually just head home and catch up on some game I missed or hit the gym. Not really into the whole social scene."

"Come on, Tim, live a little!" Lucy chimed in, nudging him playfully. "You gotta let loose every once in a while."

You couldn't help but smile at the banter between your colleagues, grateful for the opportunity to spend time with them outside of the confines of work. But as you glanced over at Tim, you noticed a hint of tension in his behaviour, his jaw clenched slightly as he watched the scene unfold.

"So, Y/N, how's life as Tim's rookie treating you?" Nolan asked, turning to you with a grin.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "It's definitely been an adventure. Tim keeps me on my toes, that's for sure."

Despite being his rookie for some time now, you had never spent much time with Tim outside of work. But tonight was different, and you were determined to make the most of it.

Tim's gaze flickered to you, "If it's not a living hell, it means you have potential to become a good cop." you squinted at his words only for a few seconds before a sense of pride to wash over you as you smiled at him "But you're not there yet, so keep your head in the game."

Before the conversation could continue, you excused yourself to go buy another round of drinks. As you made your way to the bar, you felt the weight of several lingering gazes on your back, casting a subtle aura of discomfort. Some eyes stopped over your body as you asked the bartender for a refill, giving them one of the best views. Tim's eyes followed each glance, noting the subtle gestures and expressions of the onlookers. And he counted them one by one.

The handsome bartender took his time to do the refill, as his eyes examined you, flashing you a charming smile.

"Hey there, beautiful." his voice was low and seductive if you think about it, but it wasn't close enough to the one you actually found yourself drawn to. "What brings you here tonight?"

As Tim was left alone at the table with the rookies, he found it almost impossible to focus on their conversation, as his gaze kept drifting back to where you stood at the bar, engrossed in conversation with the bartender.

"Oh, just blowing off some steam after a long day at work." you responded politely and considered giving him a chance.

At this point, you couldn't shut people off for some feelings that are in vain anyway. You need to go back in the game if you didn't wanted to be a single 45 year old cop, redecorating your house on your own between shifts like Nolan. That wasn't nice, you scolded yourself for the thoughts.

"Sounds like you could use a drink then. Let me guess, you're a cop, right? You've got that look about you." the bartender asked with a grin as he wiped down the counter with a cloth.

Tim's jaw clenched with frustration, a surge of jealousy coursing through him as he observed the subtle flirtation unfolding before his eyes. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him, a sense of possessiveness clawing at his chest as he struggled to contain his emotions.

"Tim, is everything okay?" Lucy's voice broke through his reverie, her concerned expression drawing his attention.

Tim forced a tight-lipped smile, his features taut with tension as he tried to mask his inner turmoil. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied curtly, though his tone betrayed his true feelings.

You chuckled at the bartender assumption, shaking your head "No, no. Nothing like that. I work for the city, but I surely don't have what it takes to be a cop." you admitted, drinks in your hand, lingering a little bit more.

"Ah, close enough though." he leaned over the counter, taking his chance to have a closer look at you. "Mark" he introduced himself with a friendly smile.

"Y/N" you responded politely, as you played his game, leaning in his direction.

"So, what do you say we grab a drink together sometime, Y/N ? I know a great place just around the corner." he proposed, his eyes sparkling with genuine interest.

Mark's easy charm and attentive conversation had left a positive impression on you, and you found yourself looking forward to meeting him.

But Lucy wasn't convinced by Tim's response, her brow furrowing with concern as she regarded him intently. "Are you sure? You seem a little...off," she persisted, her voice laced with concern.

Tim hesitated, torn between his desire to confide in Lucy and his instinct to keep his emotions guarded. "It's nothing, just...work stuff," he deflected, his tone clipped as he avoided her gaze.

Lucy nodded in understanding, didn't want to cross any boundaries, so she just let the subject drop. Anyone could see from afar that Tim was uncomfortable, little did anyone know he was feeling like that because you're not around.

Not even Tim knew why he couldn't take his eyes off of you or why he felt like his heart tightened with every laugh travelling to the table.

"Yeah, we could do that." you replied to Mark, considering his offer before hearing the unmistakable beat of footsteps you can't possibly erase from your mind.

Unable to stand by and watch any longer, Tim made his way over to you, determination etched on his face. "Hey, everything okay here?"

You glanced up, surprised to see Tim standing before you. "Oh, uh, yeah, everything's fine. Just getting the drinks."

The handsome bartender eyed Tim warily, sensing the tension in the air. "Is this your boyfriend?"

Tim's jaw clenched at the question, his gaze narrowing as he locked eyes with the stranger. "Something like that."

"Uh, Mark, this is Tim, my trainer from the job." you clarified, trying to make as bearable as possible the atmosphere shift.

Mark nodded in understanding, though a flicker of confusion crossed his features at Tim's abrupt attitude and he regarded your TO with a polite smile, extending a hand in greeting.

"Hey there, I'm Mark. Nice to meet you," he said, his tone friendly despite the underlying tension.

But Tim's response was anything but friendly. With a frustrated growl, he slammed his fist against the counter, the sound echoing through the bar. "Excuse me," he muttered tersely before turning on his heel and storming out of the bar.

His fists were clenched with frustration and your heart sank with a mixture of confusion and disappointment. You watched him go, your mind reeling with unanswered questions and a deep sense of hurt.

Confusion clouded your thoughts as you tried to make sense of Tim's sudden outburst. Had you done something wrong? Was he angry with you? The uncertainty gnawed at you.

But beneath the confusion, a flicker of disappointment burned within you. You had hoped that tonight would be a chance for you and Tim to bond outside of work, to bridge the gap between you. But his sudden departure had shattered those hopes.

Tim's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Jealousy burned hot within him, a primal instinct that had ignited the moment he saw another man hitting on you.

But beneath the jealousy, a deeper sense of frustration simmered. Frustration at himself for allowing his feelings for you to cloud his judgment, for letting his jealousy get the better of him. He knew he had no right to stake a claim on you, no right to feel possessive or territorial. But try as he might, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gripped him whenever he saw you with another man.

As he made his way through the crowded streets, Tim's thoughts were consumed by visions of you and the handsome bartender, laughing and flirting as if he didn't exist. The image burned like a brand on his mind, fueling his anger and driving him further into the depths of despair.

Monday morning is usually a pain in the ass, but with the events that occurred last Friday at the bar, and Tim's attitude towards you, harsher and grumpier than usual, it was a morning out of the burning hell. Your heart was racing as he instructed you, curt and on point, on what will happen next.

May have been a few days since the incident at the bar, but the memory lingered in the back of your mind like a stubborn shadow. Despite your best efforts to push it aside, the tension between you and Tim was palpable, a silent undercurrent that simmered beneath the surface.

You knew that he was testing you, pushing you to your limits in an attempt to prepare you for the cop life, but beneath his tough exterior, you couldn't help but sense a hint of something else—something that felt uncomfortably like jealousy.

The morning sunlight bathed the patrol car's interior as you and Tim cruised through the LA streets, the radio's steady hum punctuating the silence between you.

Your usual chitchat about the rookie book is now replaced by a brooding silence, his knuckles white as they gripped the steering wheel. You stole a glance at him, noting the furrowed brow and the distant look in his eyes, and couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the gulf that seemed to have grown between you.

The radio crackled to life, dispatch's voice cutting through the quiet."7-Adam-19, we have a noise complaint at 123 Oak Street. Caller reports a disturbance in one of the apartments. Please respond."

Tim glanced at you, and you tried to read something in his eyes as he keyed the mic. "Copy that. We're en route."

There was nothing to be seen in his eyes, but you took your time to admire him in silence, your mind playing all the memories since you became his rookie, couldn't stop the thought that maybe the flicker that burned inside every time you touched his arm by mistake, every time he smiled at you, every time he made you smile, was indeed something. You always tend to question your feelings, rather they're justified or in vain, and this one was surely in vain.

There's no way a man like him, so put together, so ambitious — so handsome— would have even the thought of liking a rookie, you thought. You considered this whole situation too stupid, probably every single woman that comes past Tim fall in love with him.

As you pulled up to the apartment complex, the sounds of raised voices and slamming doors greeted you, sending a shiver down your spine.

"This could get messy," you muttered, your voice tense with apprehension.

"And we're prepared for this kind of situations. But if you don't feel like it, you can give up the badge." his voice is harsh and his expression is far from nice.

"That's not what I meant." you mouthed under your breath and followed Tim into the building.

As you reached the door of the apartment in question, you exchanged a wary glance with Tim before knocking firmly. The door swung open to reveal a chaotic scene inside, a group of men engaged in a heated argument that showed no signs of abating.

"LAPD! Hands where I can see them!" your voice cut through the chaos like a knife, but if anything, it only seemed to stoke the flames.

In an instant, the situation erupted into chaos, with shouts and curses filling the air as fists flew and bodies collided. You and Tim sprang into action, replaying in your mind everything you learned from the academy and your TO. But just as you thought you had gained the upper hand, the situation took a sudden turn for the worse. A shout rang out from the far end of the room, followed by the sound of shattering glass as a fight broke out between two of them.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you and Tim moved swiftly to intervene, but the situation quickly spiraled out of control. Amidst the chaos, you found yourself grappling with one of them, seven feet tall man and muscular construction, your heart pounding in your chest as you fought to maintain control.

Tim knew not to mess up his personal life and his professional one, he did it once and didn't end well. He weighed his decision over and over again, continuously adding pros and cons to the equation. It was safe for you to deal with this kind of men? Probably not, but if he would go soft on you and pick an easy target it would mean he let his feelings step out and fail you as your TO.

All Tim could do in this situation was to have your back no matter what and make sure you get home safe to meet with that stupid bartender. That thought run fast like the wind and bought back your laughter from that night hunting him once more. The lovely eyes you gave that man and the smile so bright, a smile he saw for the first time.

Your focus narrowed on subduing the individual before they could inflict harm. In the heat of the moment, you failed to notice another figure advancing towards you from the side.

Suddenly, a sharp blow struck your side, sending a jolt of pain radiating through your body. Gasping, you stumbled backward, momentarily disoriented as the room spun around you.

"Y/L/N!" Tim's voice cut through the haze of pain, his tone laced with concern as he rushed to your side. "You okay?"

Grimacing, you nodded weakly, trying to push through the pain as adrenaline surged through your veins. But with each breath, the pain in your side seemed to intensify, a constant reminder of the mistake you had made in letting your guard down.

Tim's grip tightened on your arm, his eyes scanning you for signs of injury as he assessed the situation. "Officer down," he said firmly into his radio, his voice tinged with urgency "Send backup and R/A."

Despite the pain coursing through your body, you forced yourself to focus, pushing aside the fear and uncertainty that threatened to overwhelm you. With Tim's support, you managed to regain your footing, the determination in his eyes giving you the strength to move on.

When one of them hurt you, the rest managed to move the circus outside the building, now armed and pointing the guns to their heads. You handcuffed your attacker and Tim dealt with the one stuck under you in the ambush. As you pushed the man down to the car with trembling feet, barely holding steady, you heard sirens cut through the air, signaling the arrival of backup. With a sense of relief washing over you, you spared a quick glance toward the parking lot, where a team of officers rushed between the men, their presence a welcome sight amidst the chaos.

"LAPD! Drop your weapon!" Nolan began, approaching the chaos as their eyes counted the police officers surrounding them. "Hands where I can see them, on the ground, face down!" he demanded as you and Tim put the suspects in the backseat of the car. "Spread your arms and legs!"

As the men followed Nolan's instructions, you tried to join your colleagues and handcuff the suspects, but Tim's hand stopped you in place. "Go sit down. You did enough." he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Despite the urgency of the situation, there was a steely resolve in his eyes as he focused on ensuring your safety above all else. Feeling a surge of frustration welling up inside you, you opened your mouth to protest, but Tim's stern gaze silenced you before you could speak. With a heavy heart, you complied with his orders, a paramedic guiding you to the ambulance for a search.

The sound of Tim's voice rang out through the chaos, his words echoing in your mind as he barked orders to his fellow officers. But amidst the chaos and confusion, it was clear that Tim's focus was solely on the task at hand, his attention unwavering as he worked to bring the situation under control. And as you watched from the sidelines, a sense of hurt and disappointment washed over you, the sting of Tim's words cutting deep as you struggled to make sense of the situation.

With the suspects now securely restrained, Tim turned his attention back to you, his expression tight with frustration as he approached. "What were you thinking, officer Y/L/N?" he demanded, his voice laced with anger as he confronted you.

Caught off guard by his harsh tone, you felt a lump form in your throat as you struggled to find the right words to respond. "I...I didn't see them, sir," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you met Tim's gaze.

But Tim's expression remained unforgiving, his frustration palpable as he glared down at you. "You could have gotten yourself killed out there," he snapped, his words biting as he chastised you for your reckless actions.

As Tim guided you back to the patrol car and began the journey back to the station, the air between you was heavy with tension. There was an awkward silence that seemed to stretch on endlessly, punctuated only by the sound of the radio crackling with dispatch updates.

As Tim sat behind the wheel, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions churned within him. He couldn't shake the sense of shame that gnawed at him, a bitter reminder of how his feelings for you had clouded his judgment during the call.

Seeing you hurt had unleashed a torrent of emotions within him, overriding his instincts as a cop and blinding him to the dangers that still lurked nearby. In that moment, all he could think about was protecting you, shielding you from harm at any cost.

But in his haste to ensure your safety, he had let his guard down, allowing the suspects to slip through his fingers and jeopardizing the success of the mission. The weight of his mistake bore down on him like a crushing weight, a stark reminder of the consequences of letting his personal feelings interfere with his professional duties.

As he drove back to the station, the silence in the car was suffocating, amplifying the cacophony of thoughts that raged within his mind. He couldn't shake the sense of disappointment that gripped him, a bitter reminder of how he had let you down when you needed him most. When you needed him to be your role model, the person you should've learned from.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of unease gnawing at you, the weight of Tim's disappointment hanging heavily in the air. With each passing moment, the silence grew more oppressive, suffocating you with its intensity.

Glancing over at Tim, you feel a pang of guilt at the sight of his clenched jaw and furrowed brow. His usually expressive eyes were now unreadable, a mask of frustration and disappointment that sent a shiver down your spine.

As you wrestled with your own feelings of guilt and self-doubt, you couldn't shake the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Tim's silent treatment spoke volumes, a clear indication of his disapproval of your actions during the call.

Despite your best efforts to break the silence, Tim remained resolutely silent, his gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead. "Tim, are you okay?" you insisted. But your words seemed to fall on deaf ears, his gaze fixed straight ahead as if lost in thought.

"I'm fine, officer Y/L/N." he muttered tersely, his voice clipped and devoid of emotion. But you could see the tension in his shoulders, the furrowed brow that betrayed the turmoil that raged within him.

You weren't about to let him brush you off that easily. "No, you're not," you insisted, your voice tinged with concern. "Something's bothering you, Tim. I can tell."

He shot you a sharp glance, his eyes flashing with irritation. "I said I'm fine," he snapped, his tone sharp and biting. But you could see the pain that flickered behind his eyes, a vulnerability that he tried so desperately to hide.

"Tim, please," you pressed, reaching out to touch his arm gently. "You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is, I'm here for you."

For a moment, Tim seemed to waver, his defenses crumbling under the weight of your words. But then, as quickly as it had come, the moment passed, and he withdrew from your touch, his expression hardening once more.

"I don't need your pity, Y/N," he spat, his voice laced with bitterness. "I can handle this on my own."

But you refused to back down, refusing to let him push you away. "This isn't about pity, Tim," you countered, your voice steady and unwavering. "I care about you, and I want to help. But you have to let me in."

Tim's jaw clenched with frustration, a surge of emotion bubbling to the surface as he struggled to contain his feelings. "I cannot change my feelings for you, believe me I fucking tried," he blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them.

The admission hung heavy in the air between you, a raw and unfiltered glimpse into the depths of his heart. And as you looked into his eyes, you could see the pain and anguish that swirled within them, a reflection of your own inner turmoil.

"I need to know that you're safe. Because I care about you," he continued, his voice softer now, tinged with vulnerability. "I kind of like you. And I lost control today because you got hurt. And I lost it too at the bar because you were flirting with that good of nothing. "

The words hung in the air between you, a silent acknowledgment of the truth that lay beneath the surface. And as you stood there, locked in a moment of raw honesty, you knew that your relationship with Tim would never be the same again.

The weight of his confession hung between you like a heavy fog, casting a shadow over the otherwise quiet interior of the car.

You glanced over at Tim, his expression guarded and unreadable as he focused on the road ahead. The air was heavy with emotion, a silent barrier that seemed to stretch on for miles.

"Tim, I..." you began, your voice faltering as you struggled to find the right words. But Tim cut you off before you could finish, his tone sharp and dismissive.

"I don't want to talk about it, Y/N," he snapped, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. "Just forget I said anything."

But you couldn't let it go that easily, couldn't let him push you away when all you wanted was to be there for him. "Tim, please," you pleaded, reaching out to touch his arm gently. "I need you to understand that I feel the same way."

His eyes flickering with uncertainty as he glanced over at you. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I mean what I said." taking a deep breath, you summoned all of your courage, pushing aside your fears and doubts as you spoke "I have feelings for you, ok? But I tried to push them away because I didn't want to complicate things. But after you told me..."

Tim's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white as he processed your words. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like an unbridgeable chasm.

Then, finally, Tim let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping with defeat. "I don't know what to say, Y/N," he admitted, his voice tinged with resignation "Things are complicated now, for sure." he chuckled, smiling at you as he parked the car.

"You and me, dinner. Tonight." you demanded, trying to play it off like nothing happened. "We talk about it like grownups."

"It's a date, then." he nodded in agreement, forcing his lips to form a straight line, to hide his dumb smile. "I-I.. I mean if you want to." he stumbled upon his words, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"Yes, Tim. I'd love that." you smiled at him as you both took the men from the backseat and guided them through the corridor of the station.

"Tim and Y/N sitting in a tree—" one of the men started mocking the scene they witnessed, but you and Tim cut him off

"Shut up."

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quinnylouhughesx43 · 4 months

Text

𝘽𝙖𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙊𝙪𝙩 · 𝙟𝙝86

summary: Trevor isn’t a fan of how Jack’s changed for his girlfriend.

warnings: use of y/n, kind of angsty, more fluffy, trevor being kind of a bitter friend,

word count: 1.1k

authors note: i really liked the request prompt but i struggled to write it. to the anon who requested it i hope it doesn’t let you down 🥺

Y/n’s laughter echoed through the restaurant, a melody that seemed to seep deep into Jack's soul. He couldn't help but smile as he watched her throw her head back, revealing the small, delicate spot on her neck where he knew her pulse would be racing. He knew if he placed his lips to it just how the noise she would make would sound. Her hair, usually pulled back into a tidy bun, had come loose and now framed her face in a halo of curls. It may have been two years since they started dating, but Jack still found himself completely and utterly captivated by her.

As they finished their dinner, Trevor nudged Jack and motioned for him to follow him to the bathroom. "Look," Trevor whispered, "I know you love her and all, but she's holding you back, man. You need to live a little, go out with all of us, have some fun." Jack sighed, feeling torn. He knew that Trevor was his best friend, but he also knew how important y/n was to him. He didn't want to lose her, no he couldn’t lose her, but he didn't want to miss out on all the adventures he could still be having with his friends.

"Why don't you come out with us anymore?" Trevor asked bluntly. "You used to be the life of the party. Now you're just...different." Jack hung his head, unsure how to respond. "I just want you to be happy, man. I really think you're making a mistake by staying with her." Trevor opened the bathroom door and walked back towards the tables. It was purely happen chance he was even here and Jack was too. Trevor on a date while Jack was on one too.

The two boys returned to their respective tables, Jack couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in tightly churning in his gut. Trevor was on to something; he did miss going out with all their friends and having their crazy adventures. But y/n was everything to him. She made him feel loved in ways he had never experienced and supported him in everything he did. It may have only been two years, but Jack couldn't imagine his life without her now. He knew he couldn't continue like this, though. Something had to give.

That night after dinner, as the two walked hand in hand through the park, Jack managed to gather up the courage to confront his new worries with y/n. "Hey, there's something I want to talk to you about," he said, his voice barely registering over the children still playing on the playground. Y/n stopped and turned to face him, her eyes instantly filled with concern. "What's wrong, Jack?"

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I love you, y/n. I love you so much. You know that. But I feel like I'm missing out on a lot with my friends. I want to be able to spend time with them like I used to." He looked down at his girlfriend who drew in and chewed on her lower lip, clearly being hurt by his words.

"Jackie, I thought we had talked about this.. I thought you trusted me enough to know that I would never stand in the way of your friendships?. If anything, I want you to have them in your life more. You are my life, today, tomorrow, hopefully next week and further, but I want you to have a life outside of me too. I love you more than you probably think I do, but that doesn’t mean we always have to be together.” Y/n told the sweet boy standing before her. He was awestruck while she was speaking.

He looked at her, his eyes searching hers for any hint of deception. An action he instantly felt guilty for. He should’ve never let his friends inside his head. Seeing nothing but sincerity, he exhaled slowly.

"I guess I just... I just need to find a balance, huh?" She nodded, wrapping her arms around him. "I'll always be here for you, jackie. And I want you to know that I understand. We'll figure this out together."

The next weekend, Jack and y/n arranged a "double date night" with Trevor and his newest girl. The four of them went to one of the local art galleries, something y/n loved to do, afterwards they went to a cozy Italian restaurant for dinner.

As they walked side by side, Jack was overcome with a sense of excitement and anticipation. Both had been building within him since the plans were made. For the first time since meeting y/n, he felt like he was truly experiencing something elating again.

The entirety of the night was filled with wholesome laughter and conversations about everything and anything, as both couples shared stories and experiences, and found common ground in their shared love for art and food. Y/n and Trevor even managed to strike up a conversation about their favorite artists and sport teams, which surprised Jack and made him smile. He had never really thought of his best friend and y/n having much in common, but it seemed like tonight was proving him wrong.

“Seems you picked a good one Rowdy.” Trevor snickered referring to y/n. “I’m glad you changed your mind about her Zegras. But I didn’t just pick a good one, I picked the best one. At least for me.” Jack was smitten with her and Trevor fake gagged. Earning himself a laugh from all of them.

While they finished their meals and sipped on their respective drinks, the atmosphere in the restaurant shifted ever so slightly. The lights were dimmed, and a soft, romantic medley filled the room. Jack caught y/n glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, an expanse flush of warmth spread through his chest.

In that moment, Jack realized that this was exactly what he needed: a balance between his relationship with her and his friendship. He didn't have to choose between them anymore.

As the music continued, Trevor and his date excused themselves to the dance floor, leaving Jack and y/n with a moment to themselves. She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling practically screaming out her love for him and Jack himself was flooded with a rush of his affection for her.

He leaned down, gently brushing his lips against hers, whispering a quick intimate “i love you”. He placed another kiss on her lips, meant to be soft and innocent but as their kiss deepened, the warm, content feeling of love and happiness spread throughout both of them.

The rest of the night flew by in a blur of conversation, laughter, and dancing. They all truly seemed to enjoy each other's company, and Jack couldn't help but feel grateful for this unexpected gift. As the night drew to a close, they agreed to get together again in the coming weeks. Trevor and Jack said their goodbyes before everyone went their separate ways.

“Y/n?” Jack called out softly from beside her. She glanced up at him, as if to ask him ‘what?’ “Thank you for tonight. I really appreciate what you’ve done for me. For us.” She squeezed his hand and smiled up at him. “I love you, I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you but I hope I keep staying lucky.” Jack brought her hand up to his lips placing a quick kiss to the top of it.

#trevor zegras #jack hughes #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #nj devils fics #nj devils fluff #cay writes #requests📝#nhl writing #writblr #hockey fics #platonic!trevor zegras #nhl #hockey fic

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phoenixblair666 · 12 days

Text

The Past Hurts

Worst!Logan X GN!Reader: An Enemies to Lovers One-Shot

Request By @j-did-reading: someone please please please write a one sided enemies to lovers fic where worst!logan was enemies with reader in his universe but falls in love with them when he ends up in wade’s

Summary: The reader is from Logan's timeline. They live with Wade after their life crumbles, but what happens when he brings home the same Logan variant from their universe?

Word Count: 2,011

Reading Time Approximately: 8 Minutes

WARNINGS: Angst, Fluff, Name Calling, Cursing, Mentions of Traumatic Experiences, Use of (Y/N), Kissing

This one shot could not have been possible without the amazing proofreading and editing from @techwrecker! Go check out her blog!

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .

Wade couldn't help but feel the sheer excitement that flooded his body when Logan had agreed to come home with him after their life-changing battle. What he didn't expect was the matched scowls the second Logan had walked through the door. "(Y/N), lookie what I found!" Wade exclaimed as he pushed in the door with his foot, finding you in your usual lounge spot on the couch. "Had a feeling you would turn up sooner or later, asshole. Whatcha bring home this t…" Your sentence was cut short the moment you laid eyes on him. When his met yours, an overwhelming feeling of anger and agitation overcame you.

"I got you a new buddy! He's much better than the one from your world. Arentcha Wolvie, yes you are!" Wade jokes as he speaks to the brute standing in the doorway. His smile is wide as he looks between you, then Logan. A palpable silence falls over the room, so thick you could cut it with a katana. Your eyes narrow when you take in his presence. The same yellow suit, the same hair, and the same shitty attitude. Yup, that's him. "Wade, I need to speak to you," You abruptly stand from your sitting position, making it to your bedroom in record time. Wades left standing next to Logan, a confused look on his face followed by an innocent shrug. He jumps into action when your voice echoes through the apartment. "NOW!"

Wade walks through your bedroom door, finding you pacing back and forth, arms crossed along your chest. He stands there with a raised eyebrow until you stop in place. "Shut the door, idiot." He scoffs closing the door behind him and lifting his hands in defense. "What's got your panties in a bunch, ya little diva?" You're positive that he can see the pure rage on your face when his smile begins to falter. "Why is he here?" Wade's smile comes back full force, clapping his hands like a schoolgirl and jumping in place. "I know what you're thinking, (Y/N), but he's great! I thought a little do-over would do you some good, you know since your Logan was a piece of shit." He exclaims while leaning in and whispering the last part.

Your hands meet your face, dragging them over your eyes as you groan. "He is my Logan, you dumb fuck." You take a moment to try to compose yourself, failing miserably when the weight of the situation brings you back to reality. "You could have brought any Logan back, but you happen to bring home the same one that I fucking hate. What the hell, Wade!" Your pruned companion analyzes the newfound information, internally battling with himself on the next course of action. He's pulled out of his silent battle when he sees you sitting on the edge of the bed with your face firmly pressed into your palms.

"Hey, hey, (Y/N), look at me. It's gonna be alright, okay? Logan's changed since our little adventure, trust me. Get this, he's even been sort of nice to me." You watch Wade's smile grow as he gives you his best puppy dog look. You shake your head, tears welling in the corners of your eyes when you recall exactly why you hate this Logan variant. "You don't get it, Wade. He's the reason why people resented the X-Men. Why people resent me. I left my universe because of this asshole. There are little to no mutants alive in my timeline because of him." Your hands begin to shake as you recall the night of the infamous mutant hunt. Each of your fellow X-Men slaughtered like cattle inside the mansion that was once a home and school for the desperate and needy.

You jump when you feel his arms wrap around you in an awkward, yet endearing hug. "I know, (Y/N), but please give him a chance. He's been broken for a long time. He needs this. He needs us. After all, he did just save every timeline in existence so…" He pulls away, a pleading look stretched across his wrinkled face. You frown, eventually settling on your answer. "Fine, but if he does anything stupid, I will find a way to kill the fucker." Wade jumps to his feet, twirling before dramatically bowing. "Thank you, princess. Your kindness knows no bounds." You scoff pointing to the door. "Out, you dummy." He smiles before chirping, "Apparently it does know bounds " He turns on the balls of his feet, slamming the door behind him. His voice is muffled, but you can hear him through the thin walls of the apartment, "Looks like you're staying with us, peanut!" You roll your eyes, falling back onto the plush mattress beneath you.

You don't realize sleep has overcome you until you abruptly wake, mouth dry, begging for saturation. You turn to the small Spider-Man clock on your nightstand. 3:45 A.M. Jesus, is one restful night of sleep so much to ask for? Your legs flip over the side of your bed, feet meeting the cold hardwood floor as you gain the little strength your body has to offer to carry you into the kitchen. You had become accustomed to roaming the kitchen in the dark. After all, sleeping was not your strong suit. You scour through the cabinets above the sink, pushing Wade's weird coffee mugs aside. You finally settle on a relatively normal glass with "Daddy's Favorite Cup" written on its side. What a weirdo. Before you know it you've downed two glasses of tap water, readying yourself for a third when you hear a voice behind you clearing their throat.

You turn, meeting the same hazel eyes that you have learned to despise. Glaring at him, you sit the glass on the counter behind you, guarding your chest with defensive arms. "Still sleeping in jeans, I see." Logan muses. You scowl at him, watching as his eyes roam over your still form, taking in every detail most likely confirming whether or not you are the same fiery mutant from his universe. "Still an insufferable dinosaur, I see." You mimic. He shakes his head, scoffing as he eyes you from across the kitchen.

You feel heat coarse through your veins at the sight of him. You had no idea where this conversation would lead, but you find yourself staying put as silence hovers in the air. "So Wade told me you've changed. Funny, you still seem exactly the same to me. A self-proclaimed loner, with his head so far up his ass that he can't see what he's running from. Don't think that I forgot how you left everyone behind when everything turned to shit." You poke at him trying to get a rise to confirm your suspicions. Logan's brow rises at the remark, rolling his eyes and casually leaning against the doorframe. "People change, sweetheart. You can't blame me for everything that happened that night. Where were you? Oh yeah, at that sleazy little bar whoring yourself out." Bingo. There was the Logan you knew. "At least I didn't go on a fucking rampage killing everyone on my path. Does that sound familiar?" You spat, venom lacing your words as they left your lips.

Logan's gaze drops to the floor, flashbacks of his past flooding back into his mind like a heavy fog that refuses to leave. "I was angry, (Y/N). The X-Men were all I had. They were my family. I couldn't just let them get away with it. I had to avenge them…" You cut him off, quickly barking back, "So killing innocents was the solution. I mean what the actual fuck, Logan. The humans hated us before that mess, only after did they finally see that irradicating our kind was the only way to eliminate the problem. Jesus Christ, you were no better than Magneto, Logan." Your words slashed through him like a scalding blade. Nothing could kill him, but your words came close. You saw him falter as he ran a hand through his short hair, rubbing his face for any form of comfort.

Your guard begins to fall seeing him at this incredible low. You knew you had screwed up that night, just as badly as he did. You should have been there to protect your family, but you weren't. You're just as much to blame as he is. You're pulled from your thoughts when you hear his gruff voice ring through your ears. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I fucked up. I know I did, but I just want to let the past go. I've been held down for too long now. If I could go back in time, I would change it all, but I can't. So please…" He slams a closed fist against the wall causing you to jump. "Please don't hold it against me anymore. We've both suffered too much. I'm sorry." His voice shakes and you finally see how broken he truly is. Despite every instinct in your body screaming at you to stay in place, you ignore them, slowly striding towards him. Only once your hand rests against his exposed shoulder does he lift his head, finding your saddened eyes looking deep into his soul. Your heart sinks when you see the growing pools of tears fill his eyes.

Any anger that you had held before seemed to wash away in an instant. A simple apology was all you ever wanted. "I forgive you, Lo." Your hand reaches up to his face, hovering just above the rough stubble against his chin. He leans forward connecting the soft flesh of your palm to his cheek. You brush a stray tear from his face with the pad of your thumb. He clears his throat and scrubs the wetness from his cheeks, reeling for something, anything to say to ease the pain for both of you. "I missed you, y'know. When I didn't find you with the rest I figured you had skipped town." You shake your head, offering a small smile in return for his confession. "No. I wasn't planning on leaving, but the TVA popped up at the mansion a few months after everything went down. They gave me two options. Be sent to the Void or help them out with a dying timeline. That's when they sent me here to aid Wade. Luckily enough for them, there wasn't another variant of me here so I fit nicely." You see the questioning look on his face as you explain why you're here. "I'll tell you everything eventually, but not right now. I'd like to leave the dramatics aside if that's okay." He nods against your palm.

You're surprised when Logan's arms begin to hesitantly snake around your waist, slowly pulling you into a warm embrace. He sighs, deeply inhaling your scent as his face rests in the crook of your neck. "You smell just as good as I remember." His breath fans along the sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine. You run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the domestic display. You had never known Logan to be this soft, this gentle. Maybe he really had changed since his adventure with Wade. "I missed you too, Logan."

You pull away, just enough to catch his eyes. Then your gaze falls to his lips. You watch as they part, almost as if he was going to speak before they close again. The rising tension pulls you closer, leaving your face a few inches apart. In one quick motion, he breaks the distance allowing you to meet in a gentle kiss, filled with compassion, and maybe even a hint of love. Your lips dance along his like the most beautiful ballet. So gracious, so carefully and fully mapped out. At this moment two hearts that had been broken from pain and sadness began to heal, mending back together and uniting as one. This was not the Logan you left behind. This was the Logan that you knew before your whole world had gone to Hell. This was the Logan that you missed.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .

#deadpool and wolverine #wolverine #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #x men #deadpool #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #hugh jackman

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mercillery · 2 months

Text

ANDREW KREISS RELATIONSHIP OVERVIEW

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + MENTION OF ABLEISM + OOC? + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: Andrew mains let me put you in my pocket and take care of you. And quit your jobs too, I will provide for you all.

Being in a relationship with Andrew is an adventure in patience, understanding, and love. Sure, love is a given in any relationship, but with Andrew, it's essential to navigate his unique quirks and preferences with a touch of extra care.

For instance, Andrew dislikes sunlight, so when it comes to planning dates, be prepared for moonlit strolls and stargazing rather than sunny picnics and beach outings. If you’re a sun worshipper, it’s time to stock up on moonblock instead.

Crowds? Forget about it. Andrew thrives in the quiet corners of the world, where the population density is low and the ambiance is serene. He’s the quintessential introvert, the kind who’d rather have a cozy evening at home than a bustling night out. If you’re the life-of-the-party type, this might require some adjustment.

When you first start dating, don't be surprised if he stumbles over his words or gets flustered over the simplest things. A casual brush of your hand against his might send him into a blushing frenzy. He might awkwardly laugh at things that aren’t jokes or offer you a flower he picked up without realizing it's a bit wilted. It's all part of his charm, though.

Andrew’s awkwardness comes from a place of inexperience rather than indifference. He genuinely wants to give you all his love and affection, but he’s not quite sure how to go about it. He’s learning, slowly but surely, how to open up and let someone into his world. Please be patient with him.

The early days of your relationship might be filled with small, tentative steps. Once he’s actually comfortable around you enough, maybe he’ll invite you to the cemetery, showing you his world in a way that’s meaningful to him. Don’t be surprised if he seems more at ease there, where he’s surrounded by the familiar. It might seem unconventional, but for Andrew, it's a big step toward letting you into his life.

His awkwardness is part of what makes him so endearing. Every hesitant smile and gesture is a sign of his growing affection for you. He's new to all of this, and it feels weird to him, but in the best way possible. As he becomes more comfortable, you'll see glimpses of his true self—a kind, thoughtful person who’s just been waiting for someone to understand him.

I think it should be flat-out obvious that Andrew is not one for grand displays of affection. Don't expect sweeping romantic gestures or elaborate declarations of love. He shows his feelings through small, meaningful actions that speak volumes about his deep affection for you. You might find a single flower left on your pillow, a delicate token of his feelings. Or, during difficult moments, he'll be there, quietly holding your hand, offering comfort and support without saying much.

Andrew has a way with words, but he prefers to write them down rather than speak them. You might receive handwritten notes from him, filled with poetic descriptions of his emotions and how much you mean to him. These notes are treasures, capturing his heartfelt sentiments in a way spoken words often can't.

His love language is all about acts of service and giving thoughtful gifts. He'll go out of his way to do little things that make your life easier, whether it's fixing something around the house, cooking a meal, or simply being there when you need him. These acts, though seemingly simple, are his way of showing how much he cares.

As for gift giving, receiving gifts from Andrew is always special because they're never random. Each gift is chosen with care and has a personal significance. It could be a book he knows you'll love or something that reminds him of a special moment you shared.

Having been the victim of ableism and cruelly labeled the “white-haired monster” because of his albinism, Andrew struggles with the painful memories of his past. These experiences have left deep scars, making it difficult for him to trust and open up to others. However, he trusts you and is comfortable enough to lean on you for emotional support, finding solace in your presence.

Andrew’s past is a heavy burden he carries, and it’s not easy for him to talk about it. The wounds from being ostracized and misunderstood run deep, really deep. That being said, he’ll seem distant or reluctant to share his feelings. But with your gentle encouragement and unwavering support, he slowly begins to open up. It’s a gradual process, marked by small breakthroughs and quiet conversations where he reveals his inner turmoil. Your compassion acts as a balm for his wounded soul, helping him to heal bit by bit.

And if you reveal your own issues to him, Andrew gives you his full attention. He wants to be there for you just as you have been there for him. He may not always have the right words to say, but his presence and understanding are more than enough.

He might not be an expert in comforting others, but he genuinely tries his absolute best to make you feel better. His attempts might be awkward or clumsy, but they are always heartfelt. Whether it's sitting quietly by your side, offering a reassuring touch, or simply listening without interrupting, Andrew’s efforts show how much he cares.

He understands how much it means to have someone there during difficult times because he's been on the receiving end of your support. He wants to reciprocate that same level of care and understanding. His empathy runs deep, and even if he struggles to find the right words, his actions speak volumes. He might bring you a small token of comfort, like a warm cup of tea or a favorite book, as a way to show he's thinking of you.

In those moments when you need a shoulder to lean on, Andrew's there, providing a quiet, steady presence that offers a sense of calm and security. He knows the value of having someone who listens and understands, and he strives to be that person for you. His dedication to your well-being is evident in the way he prioritizes your needs and makes an effort to be there for you, just as you have been there for him. He wants to make you feel the same way you make him feel when he opens up about his own issues: understood, valued, and better.

If you ever want to surprise Andrew and watch him melt, gift him iris flowers. He has a special fondness for irises because someone once told him that iris will turn into a rainbow and carry kind souls to heaven.

So when you give him iris flowers, it’s not just a gift; it’s a gesture that genuinely touches his heart. The fact that these flowers come from you, the person he loves, makes the gesture even more meaningful. You’ll see his eyes light up and a smile spread across his face as he gently takes the flowers.

Andrew might hold the irises with a reverence that speaks volumes about how much this gesture means to him. He might even get a bit emotional from the simple yet profound act of receiving these flowers from you, evoking a deep sense of love and gratitude. In his quiet, heartfelt way, he’ll thank you, stumbling over his words as he tries to express just how much this means to him.

Your relationship is built on these little moments, these quiet acts of love that speak louder than any grand proclamation. It’s a partnership where both of you bring out the best in each other, healing wounds and creating a bond that’s deeply personal and profoundly touching. And if anyone asks, you can always joke that your love story started in a cemetery with a guy who’s more comfortable with the dead than the living—but who learned to cherish the living soul who loves him.

#idv x reader #idv x you #andrew kreiss x reader #andrew kreiss #idv andrew #identity v x reader #identity v x you #idv grave keeper #grave keeper idv #I mainly play for the game and not the lore #so I actually had to go to his wiki and study him I really hope this isn’t out of character :(#if you’re reading this I hope today is treating you well <3 #finding out the reason why Andrew likes iris flowers so much actually warmed my heart that’s so cute

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blitzwhore · 4 months

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I just saw Blitzø get called Stolas stockholm victim I can't with this fandom anymore😭

😂 As outrageously incorrect and stupid as that take is, I'm going to go on a tangent here. I hope you don't mind.

I think every fandom has annoying people with awfully terrible takes in it. People with zero media literacy. People who hatewatch. People who think they're entitled to the exact show they would've wanted, which has nothing to do with the actual, existing show.

This is especially true for queer media, and especially true for queer cartoons. (Hi, yes. I was active in the Adventure Time, Steven Universe, Voltron, and She-Ra fandoms when those shows were airing, respectively. I've seen some stuff). Some people just can't handle queer cartoons, period. If the queer characters/ships are soft and wholesome, they're infantilising and boring, and if they're complex and nuanced and actually have conflict, they're abusive and problematic. You'll hear the same recycled arguments over and over again. Like, the shit some people are saying about Blitz and Stolas after The Full Moon? Is literally almost word-for-word what they said about Catra and Adora post-season 3 of She-Ra (and even at the end of the show).

Here's the thing, though! Those people and their bad takes are not what I want to think about what I think about a fandom. Those aren't the people I want to call the fans. They don't deserve that title. Not when so many other people are out there dedicating their time to making gifs and art and meta posts, and writing fic, and commenting/reblogging to show support, and sliding into people's DMs to scream and squee together about a thing they love.

At the end of the day, "fandom" is just a lot of people each doing their own thing. Which people you engage with and allow to stay within your line of sight will determine your fandom experience. Fandom can be a huge, convoluted, online space full of people who are constantly arguing with one another and whose takes make you unfathomably angry... Or it can be you and your 5 friends and mutuals who scream gleefully at one another in 2-note posts. You can't control what others post online, but you can control your engagement with it.

How? Well, here's what I personally do to avoid getting upset by people's stupid opinions online:

Filter 'critical' and 'anti' tags (eg. #anti stolitz #anti vivziepop #Helluva Boss critical #HB critical #vivziepop critical). Many people actually do tag their critical posts because they know it's the respectful thing to do!

If I come across a post that has one or more of those tags, obviously, I don't click through to see it under any circumstances.

If I stumble across a stranger's untagged post with hate/criticism that upsets me: I stop reading and BLOCK. Immediately. I don't look back. I don't finish reading. I don't engage. I just block block block. I <3 the block button, seriously.

If I feel my mind reeling from a bad take I just came across: I take a step back, close my phone, breathe, remember life is beautiful sometimes. Go back and watch an episode I really like. Clean my living space a little. Vent about it to a friend (but only if I really need to, because if not, I'd rather not dwell on it).

If I'm starting to feel the need to reply to someone's bad take (directly or via my own post), I instead make the decision to channel that energy into making fandom posts out of love. (I don't do this just with fandom. If I see something transphobic online, I usually react by reblogging a bunch of trans art or trans positivity posts on my main, for example). I like to think of it as putting some positivity out into the world to compensate for the negativity I just saw. So, for example, if I see someone shitting on my blorbo, I may make a silly post just saying how much I love blorbo. Or I'll make (or draft) a post about how interesting I find some of blorbo's actions. Or reblog another person's positive/interesting post about blorbo.

And finally, I stay the hell away from Twitter. Or at least, if I go on Twitter, I try my best to avoid any tweet that has text in it instead of just art. Even the people who have good opinions spend too much time arguing with the people who have bad opinions on there. I don't want to see people's bad takes! No, not even while reading founded and perfectly articulated criticism of those bad takes! So I just limit my time on Twitter. And again, if someone is putting bad takes on my TL (even if it is to counter them), I unfollow and block as needed.

All this to say, yes, it really fucking sucks to read the opinions of people who don't understand and who hate the characters and ships and worlds you love. Gosh it's the worst. But you can curate your fandom experience. You can focus on the things you can control. You have the power to decide if your fandom experience is draining or fun!

And because I don't know how to finish this, here, have a Stolitz kiss to heal you:

We will keep winning and there's nothing the haters can do about it. 😌

#helluva boss #stolitz #curate your experience #Long post #Kinda?#As someone who was around when Catradora seemed to be crashing and burning: we will win. Ignore the haters #Trust the process #The gays are traumatised and acting accordingly AND THAT'S OKAY #Also go and watch She-ra if you haven't <3 #And SU and AT

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compact-turtle · 11 months

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How would all three yans react to having children? Good or bad?

This is actually such a fun prompt and ask! Thank you for sending it in. I'd actually love to write a full post sometime instead of a small little drabble about this! It'd be so much fun imaging one of their daily routines and lives with a family.

Atticus:

-Isn't really that interested in kids unless his darling wants them. At first, he'll try to talk his darling out of it. Gives lists of reasons on why he can't be a dad. Eventually, comes around to it if his darling really wants them.

-He's a strict and stoic father. Makes sure the kids go to bed at a certain time, finish their chores and do their homework. The kids have to be punctual.

-Not a fan of extreme harsh punishments at all. No taking away meals, locking in closets or any of the sorts. Especially, hitting if they don't listen. (His parents used to do it to him which has resulted in a traumatized farmer)

-More type of look at the consequences of your actions. You don't do your homework, then you fail your class. You don't collect eggs from the chicken coop, no eggs for breakfast. You don't feed the dogs, look at them go hungry. (The doggies don't actually go hungry since Atticus secretly feeds them, they're just always begging for food)

-Shows he loves them through his actions instead of words. He'll take them special getaway trips, go bird watching, catch bugs, make presents, etc. He wants his kids to know that he loves them despite his strict behavior. He's trying to break the cycle of generational abuse that came from his parents. It's hard ngl but he makes an effort every day to overcome it.

For readers who imagine pregnancy:

-kisses your belly when you're asleep. Reassures the baby that he'll always take care of them. He would never do it when you're awake since he's nervous you'll deem him as less than manly or "strong".

-Does not let you work on the farm at all!! He hires extra farmhands to replace your usual help. Lectures and scolds you when you try to do anything. Don't you know that an accident could happen any time especially somewhere dangerous like this farm??

-Your safety and the baby's safety are top priority at all times.

-Watches films and tv shows about pregnancy and families. He makes sure to remember all the details so he can be the best father just like on the tv!

-No sexy time at all when pregnant! He's afraid it'll injure the baby. Only complies when his darling coaxes him into it but even then, it took a while.

Orion:

-Hella yea. The only one who's willing to jump on board and be excited for them. Takes the kids out on daily foraging and exploration nearby the home. Teaches them how to jot down information.

-Shows them his notes on all different types of plants, creatures and landscapes. Tells them which things to avoid and how to survive if in contact with dangerous creatures.

-Kids grow an immunity to his terrible cooking. Actually, enjoy it and treat is as an odd delicacy to be savored.

-The children are taught both languages. Darling's for communicating with other members of the species but his in case they need to talk, and others are listening in.

-Reminds the kids how much he adores them and their mother every day. Tells them tales about his home world and adventures with their mother.

-However, his favorite story to tell is about how their mother heroically saved him from death and starvation. Sometimes he embellishes details like

"Oh, your mother also fell in love at first sight with me. They were just too shy to admit it, but I could tell."

-The real question though, are human species able to get darling's species pregnant???

For readers who imagine pregnancy:

-Does darling get pregnant like a human? Orion will have to find out. However, I imagine the way of getting pregnant to be similar, but they don't give birth. Instead, an egg like thing forms within their reproductive system and they push out something similar to an egg.

-The egg would hatch within two months after growing to full term.

-Orion has built a nest for the egg and watches it every night. Proudly tells the egg about all the adventures they'll go on as family.

-Darling insists that Orion doesn't need to baby the egg since the shell is quite strong. Still, he doesn't listen and frets over any small movement from it. Makes little hats and scarves and dresses the egg in it.

-Orion makes sure to take so many notes during this period. What color is the egg? How long before it hatches? How many times does it move in an hour?

-He takes notes in case darling and him decide to have another egg baby. He'll be more prepared second round.

-Enjoys setting the mood up for some sexy time. He feeds you the right food, sets up the small hut just right and everything. Ofc he'll makes sure to cover the baby egg with a blanket. He doesn't want your baby egg to see anything inapposite after all.

Ivar:

-He'd want to wait a few years into marriage. The idea of kids is daunting. He's seen the worse of man and how destructive the world can be. Really nervous about letting kids out into that type of environment. Still, he does desire a family that you'll raise together.

-He's a fun goofy dad. Takes all the stress of the kids when he arrives home. Plays with them, teases them and drains all their energy so you can relax. I'd imagine that Ivar insists that you be a stay-at-home mom while he goes to work.

-Listens to his kid's problems from boyfriend issues to " I can't believe they cancelled my show". Actively enjoys listening to his kids talk about anything and everything.

-Signs his kids up for self-defense classes. He's aware that there's so many dangers in the world and he can't always be there to help. They've got to be prepared for anything that could happen.

-Supports his kids in all their activities. Shows up to every single game, recital, spelling bee, etc. Whatever it maybe, he'll be there. Wants them to know he cares about them and their interests.

-Doesn't really enjoy mentioning stories from his time at war to them. He's afraid it'll corrupt their world view and he want them to live a peaceful life :(

For readers who imagine pregancy:

-Ivar reads up on all those mom-blogs and pregnancy books. Puts headphones on your belly so your baby can listen to Mozart. Does it actually do anything? Idk the mom blog says it stimulates baby growth or something like that.

-You have a strong craving at 1 in the morning? He's on the case to get it for you. If he can't find it any stores, then he'll drive over to the next few towns to get it. He's so determined to find it.

-loves decorating the baby's nursery. He'll put up decorations and different decals for the baby. Also enjoys building things for it such as dresser and the crib.

-Also doesn't let you by yourself. You want to talk a walk around the neighborhood by yourself? Nope. He's right there holding your hand or pushing you in a wheelchair.

-loves to initiate sexy time with you. During his mom blog reading, he read that it was a great past time while pregnant. Plus, he loves you no matter what you look like even if you're insecure about your changing body.

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