#is that it was a pretty normal English word for a long time

[amethystarachnid]

May I be so bold to ask for a fic?

PLATONIC Modern day reader gets sent back in time/ universe to the avengers.

Life is going as expected now that they have taken her in, yes even though she’s 21 in a Time were she supposed to be 10 years old is weird, you get used to it.

Imagine though it’s the middle of the battle of New York, all of a sudden JARVIS says you appear to be having a panic attack based on your vitals, and he cant see you due to the cameras on the floor being down.

Now everyone thinks this is a Tony kind of panic attack, so imagine the surprise when they see reader flying down in a half put together Ironman suit (boots chest gloves and helmet) swinging a metal baseball bat at some aliens with thunderstruck playing in the back.

Tony- “that’s my girl!!!”

Bonus if Tony from the future (when they all went back in time) sees the reader and just cry’s a little bit an still cheering goes “that’s my little girl”

I never see fics with people that are used to getting random panic attacks and are pretty good at handling it.

TIME TRAVELER

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: platonic!, fluff, a little angst

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 8.5k

ᯓ★ Summary: just what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): time traveling, panic attack but well handled

ᯓ★ I really hope you like the story because I had some troubles understanding what you meant in your ask, but I tried my best and hope you like it! <3

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

You know something is wrong the moment you open your eyes.

You’re lying on your back, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, one that’s definitely not yours. Gone are the grey metal slabs and dusty air filters of the Avengers compound. In their place is something sleek, futuristic even, a ceiling lined with recessed lights and small silver vents, like it’s from a science fiction movie. The air smells new—no, it smells like money. It’s a rich, clean scent, faintly mixed with the lingering aroma of coffee and a trace of cologne.

You sit up, groggy, disoriented, the faint ache of too many sleepless nights reminding you that, yes, everything that happened—the Snap, the losses, the grief—all of that was real.

Or… was it?

No. You refuse to entertain the thought that you might’ve dreamed up a whole nightmare. But something is definitely wrong, because the last thing you remember is… being in the lab. You and the others had been there, going over the latest quantum research to get everyone back. And then—nothing. Just a sudden, blinding light and then… this place.

Panic grips you as you swing your legs off the bed and take a look around. The room itself is lavish. Glass walls line one side, letting sunlight stream in with an almost blinding intensity. Beyond the glass, you can make out the towering skyline of New York City in the daylight. Which, given the circumstances, feels strange enough—when’s the last time you saw anything but darkness or emergency lights back at the compound?

Trying to gather your thoughts, you push yourself to your feet, glancing down at your clothing. You’re dressed… strangely. Not in the clothes you put on yesterday, but a loose-fitting T-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants that don’t belong to you. You reach up, patting your hair, finding it slightly mussed, like you just woke up from a long, unplanned nap.

Your pulse quickens. Nothing about this makes sense.

A soft click behind you sends you whirling around, only to see the glass door to the room slide open. In strides Tony Stark—unmistakable with his confident swagger, his trademark Iron Man T-shirt, and a curious gleam in his eye. But it’s not the Tony Stark you’ve come to know in these last few years of grief and recovery, the one who’d been almost completely worn down by the fight to fix the world. No—this Tony looks younger, brighter, with sharper edges and that familiar arrogant smirk that makes your breath hitch.

He stops in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he gives you an appraising look. “So,” he says, drawing out the word, “you gonna explain why you were taking an unscheduled nap in one of my guest rooms?”

There’s no warmth, no familiarity in his tone. And why would there be? You realize, heart pounding, that this isn’t just any Tony Stark. This is 2012 Tony Stark.

You swallow, trying to keep the panic from spilling over. This is impossible. You’d read up on every theory, every bizarre scenario Doctor Strange and Bruce had briefed you on, but none of them involved anything like this.

“I… I think there’s been a mistake,” you manage to stammer, knowing just how lame it sounds, and yet not knowing what else to say.

“A mistake?” Tony raises an eyebrow, stepping fully into the room, hands on his hips. “Right. A mistake. So, just to clarify, you, a complete stranger, just happened to show up in my guest room, dressed in pajamas I definitely didn’t provide, as part of some cosmic mistake?”

You nod slowly, your throat dry as you search for words. “Yes,” you say quietly. “I mean, no. I mean… I don’t know.” You close your eyes, willing your brain to function. “The last thing I remember, I was in the Avengers compound, in 2023.”

“2023?” he repeats, his eyebrows shooting up. “Okay, so now we’re time traveling. Makes total sense.” His tone is dripping with sarcasm, but his eyes are sharper than ever, scrutinizing every detail of you. “All right, let’s go with that. What’s your name, Miss 2023?”

You blink, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. You hadn’t expected the encounter to go this way—hadn’t even expected to have an encounter like this at all. “(Y/N),” you say finally. “My name is (Y/N).”

He gives a thoughtful nod. “Nice to meet you, (Y/N) from the future. I’m Tony Stark, but you already knew that.” He pauses, giving you a look that’s equal parts amused and wary. “So, mind telling me how you got here?”

“That’s… the thing,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t know. I was working on some experiments with quantum mechanics, and there was this… flash of light, and then I was just here.” You glance around, realizing that it feels just as bizarre to you as it probably does to him. “And I didn’t… I mean, I didn’t think I’d end up here. Or end up… meeting you.”

The smirk fades from his face, replaced by something more guarded. “Quantum mechanics, huh?” He crosses his arms again, his expression growing serious. “Let’s pretend, just for fun, that what you’re saying is possible. That you somehow popped out of 2023, dodging all kinds of laws of physics, and ended up here. Which, by the way, happens to be 2012. Care to explain why?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, feeling more and more vulnerable with each word. “All I know is that something went wrong. The tech we were working with… it’s not fully stable yet. It could have triggered something, maybe even pulled me into some kind of anomaly.” You stop, trying to read his reaction, but he’s impossible to read, his face completely inscrutable.

“An anomaly,” he echoes, almost thoughtfully. For a second, his expression softens, like he’s trying to imagine what you’re describing, before he snaps back to his usual, unflappable self. “Well, (Y/N), welcome to the past. I’d offer you a drink, but something tells me you might not be in the mood.”

You exhale sharply, trying to resist the urge to pace. “This doesn’t make sense. I don’t belong here. This is years before… before everything. Before the Battle of New York, before the Avengers Initiative really took off.” You pause, your eyes widening. “Wait, you haven’t… You haven’t even gone through that yet?”

“Not sure how much of my life you think you know,” he says, quirking an eyebrow, “but yeah, the big alien invasion hasn’t exactly been penciled into my calendar yet.”

You swallow, feeling the weight of your situation settle even heavier around you. This isn’t just a strange turn of events. You’re in a different reality, back in the days when the Avengers barely knew each other. Tony hasn’t even faced Loki yet; the wounds from that invasion haven’t left their mark on him.

“Tony, I… I think I’ve gone back in time,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Congratulations,” he says with a humorless chuckle. “Now, that’s a party trick I’d actually like to know about.”

As he studies you, his gaze sharpens, like he’s considering what to do with you. But then his phone buzzes, and he glances down at the screen, momentarily distracted. It’s just enough for you to get your bearings.

Taking a deep breath, you try to focus, to think of what Doctor Strange would say, what he might suggest in a situation like this. He always had a contingency plan—always had a way of approaching the impossible with a methodical mind.

“So,” Tony says, tucking his phone away and turning his attention back to you. “I take it you’ve got a rough idea of what happens next in my life?”

Your hesitation must be clear, because he holds up a hand. “Don’t worry, I’m not asking for spoilers. Just… let’s say, hypothetically, I’m not as skeptical as I’m letting on.”

It’s clear he’s testing you, trying to see if you’ll slip up, if you’ll give away some hidden detail about the future. You can almost see the wheels turning behind those dark, piercing eyes, and you’re caught between two urges—to convince him of the truth and to protect him from it. How much can you tell him? How much should you tell him?

“I know enough,” you answer cautiously. “Enough to know that this could be dangerous. And that I need to get back. I don’t belong here.”

“Well,” he says, gesturing around the room, “you’re here now. And if you’re really from the future, then there’s a reason for that. If you’ve got even a single thread of an idea of how to reverse this little slip through time, I’d suggest you hold onto it, because as far as I know, I don’t have any quick fixes for ‘accidental time travel.’”

He’s right, of course. No matter how much you might wish it, there’s no easy answer. And for the first time, you realize that you’re truly, utterly out of your depth. You’re in 2012. The Tony Stark you know isn’t quite this Tony Stark, and the Avengers are far from the team they eventually become.

But as you meet Tony’s gaze, you can’t help but feel a strange, almost unexplainable reassurance. This is Tony Stark, after all. The same man who built a suit of armor in a cave, who can adapt to anything life throws his way. If anyone’s going to help you figure this out, it’s him.

“All right, then,” you say softly, a hint of determination in your voice. “Let’s figure this out.”

And just like that, Tony Stark—the 2012 version, at least—gives you a faint, approving smirk.

“Well, time traveler,” he says, almost affectionately, “welcome to the club.”

Absolutely! Let’s continue this and dig deeper into the tension and awe of meeting the Avengers in their early days. Here’s the next section for you:

It doesn’t take long for Tony to inform Nick Fury of your strange arrival, though you’re not sure if he’s calling it in as an “emergency” or just sheer curiosity. By the next morning, Tony’s guiding you down a hallway of Stark Tower toward a conference room, giving you little more than a reassuring nod and a devilish smirk as he leads the way.

"Just be yourself,” he says with mock encouragement. “They’re all a bit paranoid, but we’ll work with it.”

The thought of meeting them—the Avengers, as they were in 2012—stirs something inside you, both excitement and dread. It’s impossible not to feel overwhelmed at the prospect of facing the familiar faces you know from the world after the Snap, but now stripped of the experiences and battles that hardened them. You remind yourself not to expect too much, to remember they’re different versions of themselves here—strangers, almost. As you take a deep breath to steady yourself, you can already hear Fury’s voice from down the hall, smooth and commanding.

Tony holds the door open for you, a smirk lingering on his lips. “After you, time traveler.”

You step inside, and Nick Fury’s one good eye pins you with a look so intense you feel almost frozen in place. Dressed in his black trench coat, with his signature eyepatch, Fury’s gaze alone is enough to confirm that he’s as imposing as ever. Standing around the room, waiting with a mix of skepticism and curiosity, are the other original Avengers: Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner, and Clint Barton.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Fury begins without preamble. “I don’t know who you are, where you came from, or what kind of science experiment brought you here. But Stark seems to think you’re worth our time, so I’ll give you a chance to explain yourself.”

Every gaze is trained on you, and suddenly, all the things you had been preparing to say feel like sand slipping through your fingers. You glance at Tony, who only offers you a shrug and a faintly amused smile. He’s enjoying this, clearly.

You clear your throat. “My name is (Y/N). And I’m… Well, I’m not exactly from here. I’m from a different time. The year 2023, to be exact.”

There’s a palpable tension in the room as you speak, each Avenger processing your words in their own way. You can feel Steve Rogers watching you, eyes sharp and calculating as he assesses you, while Natasha leans back in her chair, a faint smirk playing on her lips, more curious than suspicious.

Bruce steps forward cautiously. “You’re from the future?”

You nod slowly, feeling the weight of their disbelief. “It wasn’t intentional, believe me. I was working on a project with… well, with Tony and some of the others. Something must have gone wrong, because the next thing I knew, I was here.”

“Time travel,” Clint scoffs, crossing his arms as he narrows his eyes at you. “Sounds like something out of a bad sci-fi movie.”

“It does,” you agree. “Believe me, this isn’t exactly how I wanted to start my week either.”

Fury’s brow furrows as he studies you intently. “If what you’re saying is true, you know things about the future. Events. People.”

There’s a pause. You know the answer he’s looking for, and you’re prepared to give it. But the thought of revealing too much, of saying the wrong thing… You don’t know what kind of impact it could have, and even in 2023, people warned against messing with the timeline. Doctor Strange had made it clear that even the smallest shifts could ripple outwards in unpredictable ways.

“I… I can’t say too much,” you admit, feeling the weight of everyone’s scrutiny. “I know things, yes, but if I start talking about specifics, I don’t know what kind of consequences that might have. I don’t want to risk changing anything important.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, arms folded, her expression skeptical. “So you’re from the future, you can’t tell us anything about it, and we’re supposed to just… believe you?”

Tony, watching the exchange with keen interest, cuts in, “Hey, I’m the skeptic in the room here, and even I think there’s something to this. She knows about things she shouldn’t. Things no one outside of SHIELD should even have access to.”

Fury nods, turning back to you. “So why don’t you give us something harmless? Something to prove you’re telling the truth that won’t mess with the timeline.”

You pause, your mind racing. There’s one thing that comes to mind—a detail that should be inconsequential enough, but that would be enough to convince them of your legitimacy.

“All right,” you say slowly, looking at Fury. “You have a hidden eye scanner behind the painting in your office that only recognizes you, Maria Hill, and Director Pierce.”

Fury’s face hardens, a flicker of surprise passing over his expression. For the first time, he seems truly convinced. “How do you know that?”

“Because I’ve seen it,” you say quietly. “I’ve been in your office more times than I can count.”

Silence settles over the room as they process this revelation. Natasha exchanges a glance with Clint, while Bruce looks at you with newfound curiosity, the scientist in him piqued.

Steve steps forward, his voice softer, more open than the others. “If you’re from the future, then… that means you know what’s coming. Are we in danger?”

It’s a loaded question, one that instantly makes your throat tighten. The instinct to tell him everything—the invasion, the battles, the losses—is overwhelming. But you’ve been trained for situations like this, for protecting information even if it’s difficult.

“Yes,” you say carefully, meeting his gaze. “But you’re strong enough to face it. All of you.”

Steve nods, his jaw set, seeming satisfied with your answer even if it’s not as detailed as he might like. There’s a resilience in him, even at this early stage, that feels like a warm thread connecting this version of Steve to the man you know from the future.

Fury, however, doesn’t seem quite as content. He steps closer, crossing his arms as he looks you over. “I hope you understand the situation you’re in, Miss…?”

“(Y/N),” you repeat, your tone respectful but firm. “And yes, I do.”

“Good. Because as long as you’re here, you’re going to be under SHIELD’s supervision. You’re a risk, whether you mean to be or not.”

“Understood.”

“Then we’ll get you set up with temporary accommodations,” he says, his tone all business. He nods to the group. “Everyone, I want you to keep an eye on our visitor. See what you can learn. And if she can help, even better.”

The meeting disperses, the Avengers filing out one by one. You can feel their eyes on you, some friendly, others more reserved. Bruce, though cautious, gives you a faint nod before leaving. Steve, always the gentleman, offers a polite smile, though you can see the curiosity and concern in his gaze. Natasha and Clint exchange a look before walking out, their silent communication something you recognize instantly; you’ve seen them do this a thousand times in the future.

As the last of them leave, Tony’s still lingering by the door, leaning casually against the frame, arms crossed as he watches you with a mixture of intrigue and something else—an awareness, maybe, that he knows more about you than the others.

When the room finally empties, you let out a long breath, shoulders slumping as the tension eases. Tony steps back inside, glancing around before giving you a lopsided grin. “Well, you survived your first interrogation. Not bad for a time traveler.”

You manage a weak smile. “It could’ve gone worse, I guess.”

“Could’ve gone a lot worse,” he agrees. “For what it’s worth, you did pretty well back there. Kept things vague enough to avoid causing a paradox or whatever, but gave them just enough to work with.”

You nod, biting back the urge to spill everything right then and there. The urge to confide in him—to tell him everything you know about the future, about how he changes, how he sacrifices so much—is almost unbearable. But the thought of how much damage you could cause keeps you silent.

Tony seems to sense the turmoil behind your eyes, because he rests a hand on your shoulder, the touch surprisingly grounding. “Look, I’m no expert in whatever quantum mechanics or time travel theory you’ve got going on, but I can tell when someone’s carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders.”

You glance up at him, startled by the gentleness in his voice. “I just… I don’t want to mess anything up,” you confess. “You all have so much ahead of you. So much you’re going to accomplish, and I don’t want to take that from you.”

He gives you a long, searching look, the cocky demeanor fading as he considers your words. “Then don’t. Just take it one day at a time. Hell, take it one minute at a time. You don’t have to carry the whole future on your shoulders, okay?”

There’s something about the way he says it that fills you with a small, fragile hope. You nod, finding strength in his words. For now, you’ll follow his advice—take it

slow, one minute at a time. Because the Avengers here in 2012 are still in their early days, still unscarred by the battles that lie ahead. And as long as you’re here, you’ll do everything in your power to protect that future without changing it.

Together, you and Tony leave the conference room, each step carrying you deeper into a past you know too well yet can’t afford to let yourself alter. It’s a delicate balancing act, but one thing is clear: with Tony by your side, you just might have a chance to figure this out.

Over the next few days, you start to settle in among the 2012 Avengers, trying to adjust to the surreal reality of getting to know them as strangers. They’re cautious, skeptical, yet undeniably intrigued by you and your claim to be from the future. You try to be as helpful as you can without tipping off the events that lie ahead, slowly building their trust by sharing bits of innocuous information—small things that don’t seem significant enough to impact the timeline but reveal just enough to confirm you’re telling the truth.

Steve is the first to approach you, polite but with his guard up, as he invites you to join him in the gym. You recognize the familiar tension in his shoulders as he goes through his training routine, movements precise and controlled.

“So,” he starts, without looking at you. “You seem to know quite a lot about us. Or, at least, about who we’ll become.” He catches the punching bag on its swing back, steadying it with a quick, efficient grip. “Care to share a few details?”

You think carefully, picking a memory you know won’t alter his future. “You and I fought together a lot, actually,” you say, smiling. “And it was an honor. You’re one of the best fighters I know.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, surprised, but there’s a small, shy smile tugging at his lips. “Coming from someone trained by Stark, that means something.”

“Actually,” you correct, a hint of laughter escaping, “you trained me, too. When I joined the team in the future, you helped me with my technique. You insisted on it.”

He seems pleased by this, nodding thoughtfully. “Guess that makes sense.” He pauses, looking down. “Good to know I’m still around in the future.”

The words catch you off guard, but you manage to keep your expression neutral. “Yeah. You’re… very important to all of us.”

He gives a small, appreciative nod, not pressing for more. Trust forms slowly between you two as he begins to open up, sharing some of his own hesitations about being part of the Avengers. It’s subtle, almost shy—the beginning of a mutual understanding that grows from small gestures and quiet support.

It’s Natasha who finds you next, joining you in the kitchen as you’re grabbing a snack. Clint follows soon after, leaning casually against the counter with an appraising look.

“So, future girl,” Clint says, popping a grape in his mouth. “Tell us something we don’t know.”

Natasha, sitting across from you, is more direct. “If you can’t tell us everything, then tell us one harmless thing about me and Clint. Something that won’t change anything.”

You think about it, wondering what would be safe to share. Then you recall something small, a tiny detail from the future that has no bearing on any grand event but makes you smile.

“All right. You two like to compete over who can pull off the crazier stunt in the field,” you say, grinning. “It’s… kind of legendary, actually.”

Clint chuckles, leaning back. “Legendary? You hear that, Nat? We’re legends.”

Natasha rolls her eyes, but there’s a faint hint of a smile on her lips. “Legendary, huh? So, who usually wins?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, you do, of course.”

Clint throws his hands up, feigning outrage. “What? I’m pretty sure I would win that fight.”

Natasha’s expression doesn’t change, but you can see the amusement flickering in her eyes as she watches you. For the first time, there’s a hint of trust and warmth there, a softness that she usually keeps hidden. It’s a small moment, but one that feels like progress.

Bruce is one of the quieter members of the team, and for days he keeps his distance, observing you with a mix of curiosity and wariness. He’s naturally cautious, and you can tell he’s wrestling with a thousand questions.

It’s not until you’re alone in the lab, tinkering with some outdated equipment, that he finally approaches.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he begins, pushing his glasses up as he studies you. “In the future, do I… do I get a handle on things? On myself?”

You hesitate, knowing exactly what he means. In 2023, Bruce has indeed found balance, integrating his two selves into what he calls “Professor Hulk.” But you’re not sure if it’s wise to tell him something so significant. You decide to keep it vague, focusing on the reassurance he seems to need.

“You make peace with yourself, Bruce,” you say softly, offering him a warm smile. “You become… someone incredible. And the world is better for it.”

His shoulders relax, and he seems to breathe a little easier. “I’m glad to hear that. Sometimes it’s… hard to imagine things ever being different.”

“They will be,” you assure him, your voice filled with certainty. “Trust me.”

From that day on, Bruce seems more at ease around you, and he even starts inviting you to join him in the lab, talking to you about theories and experiments in ways that remind you of the future you left behind.

After a week of cautiously earning the team’s trust, Tony decides to host an impromptu “team bonding” night in his penthouse—a sort of welcome-to-the-past celebration for you. The others show up, mingling and relaxing, and as you watch them, the differences between these younger Avengers and the versions you know in the future become all the more apparent.

Steve still holds himself a little apart from the group, clearly unused to being surrounded by people who look to him for leadership. Natasha’s edges are sharper, her eyes always watchful, as if she’s waiting for the next mission. Clint is easygoing but guarded, wary of anyone outside his tight circle. Bruce is quieter, more reserved, his mind constantly turning over unspoken questions, while Tony… Tony is, in some ways, exactly the same, though his arrogance feels almost untested, his confidence still untempered by the battles that await him.

At some point in the evening, Clint challenges you to a game of darts, while Natasha observes from the side with her usual unshakable calm. Clint’s sharp eyes and steady hand give him the advantage, but you manage to keep up, hitting the bullseye once or twice.

“Not bad,” Clint says, grudgingly impressed. “Maybe you’re not all talk.”

“Oh, I’m definitely all talk,” you joke, smiling as Natasha chuckles softly beside you.

Steve and Bruce, seated across the room, are deep in conversation, and Tony—well, he’s regaling the group with his latest plans for Stark Tower, gesturing wildly as he describes his latest tech upgrade ideas.

Seeing them all together like this, young and full of potential, is a strange experience. It’s almost bittersweet, knowing what lies ahead for each of them and yet realizing they have no idea. You hold back the memories, keeping your face neutral, not wanting to give anything away.

But at some point, Steve catches your eye from across the room, and he gestures for you to join him. As you approach, he shifts uncomfortably, clearly thinking through something serious.

“You seem to know us… really well,” he says, his tone thoughtful. “But we hardly know anything about you.”

The others fall silent, turning their attention to you. The question isn’t exactly unexpected, but it catches you off guard nonetheless. What can you say to them that won’t give away too much, that won’t ruin the innocence they have here?

“Well,” you begin, choosing your words carefully, “I joined the Avengers because I wanted to help. You all inspired me. You made me feel like… like the world was worth saving.”

Steve seems touched by this, and you can see a faint sense of pride and surprise in his expression.

“It’s strange,” Bruce says, smiling faintly. “Thinking of ourselves as… inspirations.”

“You are,” you assure them. “All of you. I can’t say much, but… the Avengers become something big. You make a difference. And even when things get hard, you never give up. None of you.”

Tony raises his glass, flashing you that familiar, playful grin. “Here’s to being legendary, then,” he declares, and the others lift their glasses in a quiet toast.

As they take their sips, you feel the weight of your secret settle back on your shoulders. You know you’ll need to leave someday, that the version of you who fought beside the Avengers in 2023 belongs to a different time. But for now, here in this moment, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you can make things a little better.

Trust builds gradually, each Avenger letting you in a little more each day. Clint eventually invites you to join him and Natasha for target practice, jokingly betting on whether you can keep up. Bruce starts consulting you on his experiments, asking for your advice with a respect you never thought possible from the reticent scientist. Steve includes you in his training routines, guiding you with gentle patience, his easy confidence growing every day. And Tony—well, Tony becomes a constant companion, checking in on you, teasing you, always eager to draw out your knowledge of the future without pushing too far.

The team is becoming something more than just an assignment or a mission. They’re becoming your friends.

One day, when the group gathers in the common room, Steve suggests sparring matches as a team-bonding exercise. Clint and Natasha go first, their movements sharp and perfectly

in sync, and the others watch, laughing and cheering as the pair battle it out. As you join in the fun, you catch Tony’s eye, and he gives you an approving nod.

Thor arrives with all the grandeur you remember: the flash of lightning, the distant rumble of thunder, and his booming voice filling Stark Tower as he greets the team. The others seem mostly unfazed, having grown accustomed to their Asgardian ally’s dramatic entrances, but you can’t help the flood of memories that come rushing back. Here he is—the same Thor you know from 2023, yet younger, less tempered by the losses and battles he’ll face. The unshakeable pride, the wide-eyed enthusiasm for Midgard—it’s all there, untouched by the trials that lie ahead.

He strides into the room, his golden armor gleaming, the red cape flaring behind him, and, of course, Mjolnir in his grip. Thor’s blue eyes twinkle with mischief and curiosity as they land on you, and his deep voice carries an unmistakable warmth.

“And who might you be?” he booms, glancing at Tony and raising an eyebrow.

“This,” Tony says, stepping forward with a half-smile, “is our new resident time traveler. She’s from the future, knows a few things, but she’s under strict instructions not to mess with any timelines.”

You manage a smile, offering Thor a small wave. “Hi, Thor. It’s… nice to see you.”

He steps closer, giving you a curious look. “You know me, then?”

“Oh, yes,” you say, trying not to give too much away. “I know you very well. You’re… quite the hero where I come from.”

He lets out a hearty laugh. “A hero, indeed! Well, I am glad to hear that even in the future, the people of Midgard recognize greatness!” His laugh echoes through the room, and he claps Tony on the shoulder. “And Stark, I trust you are as impressive in the future as you are now?”

“Oh, I’m impressive,” Tony replies, flashing a grin, though you catch a flicker of discomfort in his eyes. You know Tony doesn’t like to talk about the future, especially when it comes to his own destiny.

It doesn’t take long for the team to settle back into their routines with Thor joining them, and that night, Tony and Thor chat quietly in the common area. Tony seems relaxed, yet there’s a quiet intensity to his gaze whenever he glances at you. You’ve noticed it more and more over the past few days—the way Tony’s curiosity has shifted into something more protective, like he’s trying to read between the lines of everything you say, preparing himself for the worst, even if he’s pretending not to.

Later, after most of the team has dispersed, Tony approaches you, hands in his pockets, his expression pensive.

“You know,” he says softly, “Thor’s arrival means that Loki isn’t far behind. The whole reason he comes to Earth right now is… well, because of the Tesseract.” He leans in, his voice low. “The Battle of New York, right? That’s coming up?”

You nod, feeling the familiar pang of helplessness. “Yeah. It’s… it’s coming soon.”

He watches you carefully, something searching in his gaze. “And you can’t say anything that would help us?”

The question hangs in the air, both of you understanding the weight of it. You swallow hard, shaking your head. “I can’t, Tony. I wish I could. But if I do, I risk changing everything that’s supposed to happen.”

Tony’s face is unreadable, but there’s a hint of frustration there, a simmering anger he’s clearly holding back. “So, what are you supposed to do then? Just… stand by and watch us walk into a war without warning?”

You feel his words like a punch to the gut. You hate this part—the helplessness, the burden of knowing exactly how things are going to unfold and being powerless to stop it. But you also know what’s at stake if you interfere.

“Yes,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. “I can’t change anything, Tony. Even if it hurts to stand by and watch, even if I wish I could do more.”

His expression softens slightly, and he steps closer. “I get it,” he says quietly. “And I know this whole ‘not changing the future’ thing is supposed to be important. But I’m telling you now, if you ever need to tell me something, I’ll listen. No questions, no judgment.”

You nod, managing a weak smile. “Thanks, Tony. That… that means a lot.”

He hesitates, then places a hand on your shoulder, a rare moment of gentleness that sends warmth through you. “Look, I don’t know who I am in the future, but here, now, I’m gonna do whatever it takes to keep us alive.” He drops his hand, giving you a small smirk. “That includes you, time traveler.”

You smile back, heart pounding. “I’ll do what I can to keep you safe too, Tony. Even if I can’t change things.”

The Night Before the Battle

As the days pass, tension begins to settle over the team. The warnings they’ve received from SHIELD, the unusual activity around the Tesseract—all of it points to something big on the horizon. You can feel the weight of the coming battle pressing down on you like a storm cloud, and while the others prepare, you feel like a ghost, wandering the Tower’s halls, struggling with the knowledge you carry.

That night, Tony finds you on the rooftop, staring out over the New York skyline. The city lights twinkle beneath the stars, oblivious to the danger that’s soon to come. Tony approaches quietly, his presence grounding.

“Thought I’d find you here,” he says, his tone light but his eyes serious. “You know, you spend a lot of time up here, brooding.”

You smile weakly. “It’s hard not to when… I know what’s coming.”

He leans against the railing beside you, crossing his arms. “I don’t blame you. But I’ll let you in on a secret,” he says, his voice softening. “Even though you can’t say anything, you’ve helped us. You’ve helped me. Just knowing you’re here… it gives me this weird feeling that we’re gonna make it through this.”

You swallow hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I wish I could do more. But… knowing you’re here, Tony—it helps me too. You’ve always found a way to keep everyone together, to find solutions, even when things seemed hopeless.”

He looks at you, surprise flickering across his face, followed by something softer. “You really believe that?”

“Yeah, I do,” you reply, voice steady. “More than you know.”

For a moment, the two of you stand there in silence, the distant hum of the city below filling the night air. Then, Tony turns to face you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Well, if this is our last night before everything goes sideways, I say we make it count.” He offers his hand. “Come on. Let’s go raid the stash of champagne in my suite. I may be a genius, but I’m also a pretty decent bartender.”

You laugh, taking his hand as he leads you inside. Together, you head up to his penthouse, and soon, you’re seated on his plush couch, sipping champagne and trading stories. He talks about his early years at Stark Industries, the crazy nights and the high-stakes projects, and you share some of the most lighthearted moments you’ve had with the team in the future—moments that won’t give anything away but capture the heart of what the Avengers are.

“Sounds like we’re not half-bad in the future,” Tony says, grinning as he refills your glass.

“You’re more than not half-bad,” you reply, laughing. “You’re legends.”

He shakes his head, looking down at his drink. “You know, I never thought I’d have a legacy. Not really. I figured I’d make a bunch of tech, sell it off, and that’d be it. But hearing you talk about the future… it’s weird, but for the first time, I kind of want to be there to see it.”

You reach out, placing a hand on his arm. “You’re going to do incredible things, Tony. You have no idea how much you’ll mean to all of us.”

He meets your gaze, his expression softening, and for a moment, there’s a quiet intensity between you—a feeling of connection that goes beyond time, beyond the secrets you’re forced to keep. You don’t have to tell him everything to let him know how much he matters, not just to the future, but to you.

“Guess I’ll have to stick around then,” he says, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice. “For you, and for… whoever I become.”

You smile, heart pounding, and you squeeze his arm gently. “I’m glad.”

In the quiet that follows, he reaches over, clinking his glass against yours. “To the future,” he says softly, his voice filled with a determination that’s almost heartbreaking.

You raise your glass, fighting the emotions rising in your chest. “To the future.”

The morning dawns heavy, and as the team gathers, the tension is palpable. You stand on the sidelines, watching each of them prepare, the reality of what’s about to happen pressing down on you. Tony catches your eye before he puts on the suit, his gaze steady and reassuring. He doesn’t have to say anything—you already know.

“See you on the other side,” he says, voice muffled by the suit’s mask as he flashes you a confident grin.

You watch him go, your heart aching with a strange mix of pride and fear. There’s no guarantee that things will unfold exactly as you remember, but for now, you have faith. The Avengers are ready. And so are you.

The dust of the battle hasn’t even settled, but after capturing Loki, the team allows themselves a small moment of relief. As the Avengers regroup, Thor stands guard over Loki with a mixture of grim satisfaction and frustration, while Natasha and Clint exchange relieved nods. Steve is already eyeing the damaged buildings, making plans for containment and crowd control.

Tony, however, is still pacing, his gaze flicking to the holographic interface in front of him. He watches JARVIS’s live feed, examining damage reports, crowd dispersal, and tracking the few remaining Chitauri soldiers scattered through the city.

That’s when JARVIS’s calm voice cuts through. “Sir, I must alert you that Y/N’s vitals are highly irregular. Her heart rate and breathing pattern suggest she may be experiencing a panic attack.”

Tony’s brow furrows, worry creeping onto his face. “Where is she?”

“She was last located on the floor directly below you, but the security cameras on that floor are currently offline due to structural damage. I’m unable to locate her visually.”

A pang of alarm runs through Tony, and it catches the attention of the rest of the team. Natasha and Steve share a concerned look, Clint straightens, and even Thor’s expression shifts from watchful to worried.

“A panic attack?” Clint asks, confused. “I thought panic attacks were Tony’s thing.”

“Hey!” Tony snaps, but it lacks his usual edge. There’s a flicker of anxiety in his expression, and he’s already reaching for his comm. “Y/N? Can you hear me? If you’re there, talk to me.”

Silence.

He feels a sinking dread building in his stomach, and he exchanges a glance with Steve, who nods, immediately stepping forward. “Tony, do you want backup?” Steve asks.

Tony shakes his head. “No, I’ll find her. Just… keep Loki locked down, all right? We don’t want him getting any ideas while we’re distracted.”

With that, Tony heads down a damaged stairwell, calling JARVIS’s name and reactivating every broken camera he can find. After what feels like an agonizingly long few seconds, he finally picks up a faint, distorted signal from one of the lower floors.

And then he hears it—a deep, mechanical thud that echoes through the empty floor below. He rushes down the last few steps and stops dead in his tracks when he reaches the corridor.

At the far end of the hall, there’s Y/N… only she’s barely recognizable. She’s suited up in what looks like Tony’s Iron Man armor, or rather, parts of the armor—a strange, improvised mix of boots, a chest plate, gauntlets, and a helmet. Her arms and legs are half-exposed in her torn battle gear, and in one hand, she’s gripping a metal baseball bat, the metal shining under the harsh emergency lights.

Tony takes a stunned step forward as Y/N raises the bat with all her might, swinging it into a remaining Chitauri soldier, sending it flying back with a satisfying crash. The alien hits the wall hard, but she doesn’t stop. There’s a ferocity in her movements that he’s never seen before—raw, desperate, and relentless. She stumbles forward, chest heaving, breath heavy and erratic over the helmet’s comm system as she swings again and again, knocking down every remaining Chitauri that crosses her path.

The rest of the team arrives behind Tony, and they all freeze at the sight. Steve’s eyes widen, Clint’s mouth drops open, and Natasha raises an eyebrow, looking impressed.

“Is she… is she wearing your suit?” Steve finally asks, his tone equal parts confusion and awe.

Tony doesn’t answer, too busy staring. She’s moving erratically, swaying slightly, her movements sharper and more frantic than he’s ever seen from her. There’s no precision, no strategy—just sheer, brutal determination as she takes down the last of the Chitauri.

And then, as the dust settles, her chest heaves as she drops the bat to the ground with a clang, her breathing audible even through the helmet. Tony steps forward slowly, cautious, not wanting to startle her.

“Y/N,” he calls softly, “you okay in there?”

For a moment, she doesn’t respond. The helmet dips, as if she’s looking down at herself in disbelief. When she finally speaks, her voice crackles through the helmet, shaky and breathless.

“Tony?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he says, his voice softer than usual. “You wanna… you wanna take that thing off?”

The silence stretches, and then, with a trembling hand, she reaches up, disengaging the helmet. It slides off, revealing her face, pale and streaked with dirt and sweat. Her eyes are wide, glassy with fear, and there’s a tremor in her hand that she can’t quite control.

“I—I couldn’t find any of you,” she whispers, her voice catching. “And I just… I saw them down here, and I couldn’t—”

Tony steps closer, his expression softening. “Hey, hey. You did good. You took them out. You’re safe, okay?”

Her breaths come fast and shallow, and he realizes she’s still in the grip of panic, her body trembling in the remnants of adrenaline and fear. He reaches out, carefully placing a hand on her shoulder, grounding her. “Y/N, you’re okay now. Just breathe with me, all right?”

She nods, her breaths starting to slow, her eyes flicking up to meet his. There’s a vulnerability there, a rawness that cuts right through him. She looks like she’s holding back a flood of emotion, and his heart tightens.

One by one, the others approach, keeping a respectful distance but offering her reassuring nods. Steve steps forward, placing a steady hand on her other shoulder, his gaze warm and reassuring.

“We’re here,” he says, his voice steady. “You didn’t have to do this alone.”

The reassurance seems to break something inside her, and she lets out a shaky laugh, wiping at her face. “Guess I got a little carried away, huh?” she murmurs, trying to steady herself.

Tony raises an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Just a little. Though I gotta say, you wear that suit well. Never thought I’d see you flying down here with a bat and half my armor.”

Her cheeks flush, and she lets out a self-conscious chuckle. “I just grabbed whatever was closest. I couldn’t… I didn’t want any of you to get hurt. I had to help somehow.”

Clint, watching with a mix of amazement and amusement, crosses his arms, grinning. “If I’d known you had this side in you, I’d have handed you a bat weeks ago.”

Natasha steps up beside Clint, nodding approvingly. “It takes guts to throw yourself into a fight like that. Especially alone.”

Y/N looks at each of them, her expression a mix of gratitude and embarrassment. She shakes her head, glancing back at Tony. “Guess I still have a few things to learn about… not panicking under pressure.”

Tony chuckles, but there’s a gentleness in his eyes as he meets her gaze. “Trust me,” he says, “you’re not the only one who freaks out when things get intense. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’re not alone here. And next time? You don’t have to handle it by yourself. Got it?”

She nods, a small, grateful smile tugging at her lips. “Got it.”

As the team disperses, Tony stays with her a moment longer, studying her carefully. “You know,” he says quietly, his tone softer than usual, “I can upgrade that baseball bat if you’re thinking of making this a regular thing.”

She laughs, a real, genuine laugh this time. “I’ll keep that in mind. But maybe I’ll leave the suits to you next time.”

“Fair enough,” he replies, grinning. He pauses, his expression turning thoughtful. “Hey… don’t feel bad about what happened, okay? You stepped up. You saved us a lot of trouble back there.”

There’s a flicker of hesitation, but she nods, a shy smile appearing. “Thanks, Tony. For… everything.”

He gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze, his gaze soft. “Anytime. Now let’s get you out of that armor before you short-circuit it.”

With a grateful smile, she follows him, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. For the first time since arriving in this unfamiliar past, she feels a sense of belonging, knowing that these people—the Avengers, her friends—will always have her back, just as she has theirs.

Unbeknownst to you, or to the Avengers around you, just a few blocks away, a much older Tony Stark is crouched in the shadows with Steve Rogers and Bruce Banner, their eyes fixed on the commotion unfolding at Stark Tower. They’ve come to 2012 to retrieve the Tesseract—an essential part of their mission to save the future. Their objective is clear: get in, grab the Tesseract, and get out without causing any disruptions. But when Tony’s gaze catches sight of the familiar figure in half of his old suit, wielding a bat and going after stray Chitauri with a fierce determination, he freezes, completely taken off guard.

Steve glances at him. “What’s wrong, Stark?”

Tony’s eyes are glued to you, his expression softening as he watches you clobber a Chitauri, then brace yourself as the helmet’s targeting HUD helps you line up your next swing. “I… didn’t expect this,” he murmurs, voice filled with awe and something closer to pride than Steve has ever heard from him.

Bruce follows Tony’s gaze and frowns in confusion. “Wait—is that… Y/N? But that can’t be right. She wouldn’t be here. This isn’t even her timeline.”

“Oh, it’s her,” Tony whispers, his voice choked with both joy and heartbreak. He can’t help but let a small grin sneak onto his face, one that shows just how much he cares for you and just how proud he is. “That’s my little girl.”

Steve shifts uncomfortably, but there’s a softness in his gaze as he watches Tony’s face, lit up with admiration and bittersweet nostalgia. “Tony, you know the rules. We can’t interfere.”

“I know,” Tony says, the reality settling over him like a lead weight. “But look at her.” He nods toward you, a small, proud smile tugging at his lips. “She’s got guts. Always has. I knew she’d be a fighter.”

Steve watches you for a moment, then gives Tony a small, supportive nod. “She’s in good hands. You saw her out there—she’s fighting with the team, and you know this version of you will keep an eye on her.”

“I know,” Tony murmurs, his eyes never leaving you. For a moment, he loses himself in the scene—watching you alongside his younger self, surrounded by the team, all of you laughing and joking after the battle. He swallows hard, trying to keep his emotions in check. It’s like looking through a window into a different time, one where he could just stand there and watch over you, make sure you were safe.

The younger Tony steps forward in the armor, calling out a comment that makes you laugh, a real, bright laugh that reaches even the ears of the time-traveling Tony hidden in the shadows. He can see how his younger self leans forward, his eyes full of quiet care as he reassures you, and Tony’s heart swells with pride and longing.

“She’s tougher than I realized,” Bruce says with a small, approving smile, giving Tony a reassuring nudge. “She’ll be all right, Tony.”

“Yeah, yeah, she will,” Tony says, nodding to himself, though there’s a tightness in his voice that betrays the mix of joy and sorrow swirling inside him. He may not be able to approach you now, to tell you how proud he is, but he can watch you from the shadows just this once, a silent guardian, letting himself soak in the sight of you alive and well, even if it’s in a past that isn’t his.

He clears his throat, steeling himself, reminding himself of the mission. “All right, guys. Let’s get the Tesseract and get out of here,” he says, but his voice is softer, less biting than usual. “I’ll… I’ll be back soon, anyway. To the right timeline.”

As he and the others move to leave, Tony sneaks one last look over his shoulder. You’re taking a deep breath, looking around at your team with a smile that’s just a little shy, a little amazed, as if you’re still surprised that you belong here. His heart aches with pride, and his voice is barely a whisper as he says, “That’s my girl. Stay safe.”

With that, he turns and follows Steve and Bruce, his heart a little heavier but his soul a little lighter, knowing that, even if he can’t protect you directly, he’s left you in good hands: his own hands, in a way. It’s enough, for now.

I don't know if I'm really satisfied with this...I just hope that whoever requested it likes it!

[abotl]

It really doesn’t. Insofar as the Bible has any opinions about swearing, it’s about the oath-taking kind - “god as my witness” e.g. And it’s less concerned with the speaking than with the gravitas and truth content of the oath. (Depending on how you count, the 2nd/3rd commandment is not to take god name in vain. God is meant to be a big deal so like take god seriously. )

The upshot is that, for most of history, the least problematic word in the phrase Jesus fucking Christ was fucking.

(We can get into the ways that the obsession with antiquity in the renaissance brought back Roman attitudes towards obscenity where fucking was insulting, but where “you fucker” is like mildly offensive but “get fucked” is one of the worst things you could say because Romans cared about as much as invasive straight people who was getting penetrated. But also…)

Anyway, I have absolutely NO patience for people who won’t say shit, but will use derogatory language and slurs. Fuck them in particular.

remember how profanity was made out to be the worst thing in the world when you were a kid and then when you grew up everyone was like "just kidding, nobody actually cares, we were just doing that so we could yell at you"

[healmydesires]

cross that line ꕤ (l.h)

part two

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

summary: For a long time, you were content hiding your feelings, but lately, the longing for someone you can’t have has become unbearable. Despite knowing he could never be yours, you still cherished the sweet ache in your heart whenever he smiled or gave you a warm, platonic hug. Then, one day, everything changed.

genre: fluff + angst + smut (18+ mdni)

word count: 14k (14k on the dot to be precise but yeah uhm. sorry. I swear I'm normal)

warnings/tags: friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, thunderstorms, idiots in love, mutual pining, assumed unrequited love, jealous!reader, reader is described as shorter than logan, emotional!reader, miscommunication kinda, inexperienced/virgin!reader, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, piv sex, soft!dom logan, ok… just in overall bye, logan is soft for reader, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk, oral fixation. some daddy kink? breeding kink aaaaa sorry. I wrote this while ovulating. they’re both FREAKS. scent kink? lots of pet names. this is high key sweet and turns filthy. logan is worshipping his sweet girl ok! reader is a mutant. reader has hair, no further description though. this is not beta read sorry!

a/n: GUESS WHAT!!! user healmydesires is back with another self indulgent fic about a new blorbo! I’ve been having all random kinds of scenarios about logan in my head and I just didn’t know which type of story to go with. until I felt like there weren’t much of inexperienced/virgin reader fics for logan and tbh… that’s kinda my brand (I’m high key kidding but lowkey that’s what I love to write the most) if you’ve read my works so. I thought I’ll write what I WANT to read. so this is high key self indulgent. english isn’t my first language so pls bear with me <3 also ngl.. a lot of it is just smut 😭 I literally wrote this while ovulating… EDIT (19/09): I kinda edited it a bit because it had a lot of grammar mistakes and I'd often jump from present tense to past tense so ye

this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3

AO3 • masterlist

Being roommates with your best friend had its perks. You were together almost all the time, sharing both the big and small moments. As fellow teachers, you could easily swap teaching tips, lend each other a hand with tasks, or offer guidance when you were feeling stuck. Your tall best friend effortlessly reached the top shelves, and you both enjoyed laughter-filled moments during movie marathons. Sharing responsibilities became more fun too—splitting chores like cooking and laundry felt easy and natural. Plus, there was comfort in knowing your best friend was always dependable, ready to support you whenever you needed it. And whenever you were in need of a hug, your best friend was probably already ready to envelop you in his warm embrace.

But it also had its disadvantages.

Especially considering that Logan Howlett, your best friend, was quite the menace.

Logan had always had a rugged handsomeness that effortlessly made people swoon all around him. It wasn't fair how pretty he was. He had always been lucky with finding partners—or rather, when it came to finding bed or sexual partners. He'd often bring those one-night stands or partners to your shared apartment only to have sex with them. Logan had never been the type to stick with one person, always preferring flings over long-term relationships. Or so you thought.

You, on the other hand, had always craved a long-term relationship. You dreamed of finding your true love—someone to share adventures with, to have fun with, and to dive into deep, meaningful and random conversations. You loved the idea of being with someone who let you be your true self, where you could spend hours talking about the most random things—discussing your favourite TV shows one minute, and passionately criticising capitalism and the world the next. You were all about affection, from kissing to being held, but you also longed to hold your partner close and make them feel cherished, just as much as you wanted to feel loved in return.

Unfortunately, you had never had the chance to experience anything like that.

It wasn't like you had never had the chance or had the opportunity to explore and possibly experience a potential relationship. You had just never been really interested in creating a relationship with a stranger.

Plus the thing was, your best friend wasn't just your best friend. You had been in love with Logan for god knows how long.

Charles Xavier was the one who had introduced you both, years ago. You remembered that day very vividly.

You had just arrived at the Xavier Institute, and the professor had offered you a two-sided job, to be a teacher at the school and be part of the X-Men.

You'd always done your best to keep your powers hidden, but being welcomed into a school designed for people like you—a mutant—felt incredibly liberating. That's why you hadn't hesitated when Charles Xavier invited you to his school. You'd always known you were powerful, with the ability to control and manipulate water, but you had kept your abilities a secret, not wanting to be treated any differently in a world that didn't really like or understand people like you.

As the professor took you around the grounds, you couldn't help but be impressed by how big and beautiful it all was.

You were so captivated by the mansion's grandeur and stunning architecture that you didn't even notice a guy casually leaning against the nearest wall outside of Charles's office. But the moment your eyes met his, it felt as if time itself stood still. Looking into Logan's eyes, you felt like you could drown in them. You had never seen anyone so effortlessly handsome.

Completely entranced by him, you almost forgot to introduce yourself. Your body heated up in the moment, and the professor definitely noticed. Logan Howlett gave you a knowing smirk, making the warmth inside you intensify even more.

That day you both became friends, though you still didn't quite understand why, given how different you both were. Logan was gruff and blunt, while you, though capable of being direct, tended to choose your words more carefully. He was passionate and strong-willed and opinionated, and sometimes he let that get the best of him. You were deeply in tune with your emotions, while he always seemed to hold back, keeping certain feelings tightly guarded. Logan was never one to be very straightforward with his emotions. He would rather keep most of them to himself, and didn't want to seem too vulnerable. Communication was something you valued and needed a lot, but Logan, by contrast, didn't seem to rely on it as much. You were an overthinker, always caught up in your thoughts, and he would often step in to ease those worries of yours.

You could say that opposites attract.

Over time, your friendship grew, and one day he asked if you'd like to move in with him into a new apartment near the institute. He craved a bit more peace and genuinely enjoyed your company. It seemed like a good idea, so you thought, why not?

You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with your roommate. All you knew was that one day, you were suddenly overcome by an emotion so intense, it was unlike anything you'd ever felt before. It hit you all at once. Before Logan, you'd never really had a serious crush, never experienced feelings this powerful for anyone. You often told yourself it must have started shortly after you moved in with him, but deep down, you knew that wasn't the truth. This feeling had been quietly growing from the very first moment you met him, slowly building until it became impossible to ignore.

It was funny, you thought, how life had a way of bringing you things—and people—you never realised you needed. People like Logan, who became so essential that you couldn't help but wonder how you had ever lived without them. People like Logan Howlett, who somehow managed to be both your saving grace and your greatest temptation.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A few months into your roommate arrangement, you still couldn't get used to Logan constantly bringing one-night stands to your shared apartment. It was pure torment.

As you ate cereal at the kitchen island, one of Logan's many one-night stands quietly slipped out of the apartment. You rolled your eyes, as Logan routinely walked them through the apartment to the door, their faces often adorned with sly smiles as they fluttered their eyelashes at him. A knot of anger twisted in your belly as you watched them play with the collar of his shirt, their fingers lingering while he made no move to pull away. You'd never felt such intense rage before. He responded with a grunt as they would casually give him a goodbye kiss.

You hated experiencing feelings like these. It was a gross emotion, a heavy sensation that felt thick and tar-like, clinging to your chest and making you ache with its heavy weight.

Anxiety? Sure, you were often more anxious than most mutants, but that wasn't the feeling you had at this moment. Maybe it was jealousy? You disliked how that emotion fit so easily on your tongue, leaving a bitter taste.

Each time you witnessed these scenes unfold, jealousy and frustration would wash over you. Or how you'd feel utterly awful whenever you accidentally overheard them having sex.

As Logan reentered the apartment and closed the door behind him, you couldn't help but snort. “So, what number are we up to now?”

He stared at you for a moment, before chuckling and shaking his head with a smirk. “Not sure, lost count.” He shrugged, grabbed an apple from the fruit basket on the kitchen island, and took a bite.

“What was their name?” you asked, staring daggers at your bowl of cereal.

Logan shrugged again. “I don't know, and honestly, I don't care,” he replied curtly before walking away.

You couldn't understand how he could be so nonchalant about this situation.

It wasn't just jealousy; you longed for any kind of affection or love from Logan, more than you ever thought possible. You were grateful to be his best friend and you knew it might seem foolish to hope for a chance with him, but you couldn't help yourself. Deep down, you feared you'd always feel this lonely, believing you could never fall for anyone but him. He was everything you craved and needed in life.

You felt foolish, constantly embarrassed and rejected. More than anything, you felt hurt, knowing that you were the only one to blame. It was your own feelings that had caused all this pain.

The thought of him one day falling in love with someone else made your stomach sink, but you pushed and suppressed your sadness aside daily. It didn't really matter—Logan was free to date whoever he wanted. He was your best friend, only his best friend.

One day, you'd have to come to terms with the fact that he would always be just your best friend.

You just hoped that one day it would become easier to deal with these feelings.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It was the middle of a cold winter night — the air cool against your skin, even with your large pink puffer jacket to keep you warm. The thick curtain of night enveloped the sky, painting it a deep midnight blue, with stars twinkling like the clearest diamonds. Despite the cool ambient air, you found yourself relaxing, your shoulders gradually easing.

“You see that there?” you pointed up at the starlit sky, leaning unconsciously into Logan's warmth as you both lay on the grass of the X-mansion grounds. “That's the Pleiades. People often mistake it for the Little Dipper, but it's just a star cluster.”

Logan hummed, but his eyes were focused on you, how you gazed up at the stars with an awestruck expression. A gentle smile tugged at his lips, as he enjoyed how you looked so endearing as you were so engrossed in the stars that you loved so dearly.

He glanced up at the part of the sky you were pointing to, located the cluster of stars you had mentioned. He studied it for a moment and thought he had seen something similar to the Pleiades before, but never illuminated in the night sky like this. Logan's gaze then returned to the earth, settling back on the grass where he lay beside you.

“Beautiful,” Logan whispered as he stared at you. “Truly beautiful.”

You were too busy gazing up at the sky to realise that he wasn't talking about the sky.

For as long as you could remember, you had loved the night sky, finding its dark embrace profoundly comforting. More than that, you adored the stars—coming out at night to bask in their radiance, with their distant coldness soothing your soul.

You had always felt so mesmerised about the universe, especially the stars and the moon. They appeared beautiful, glittering magnificently beside one another as they hovered in the upper stratosphere.

“Why did you bring me out here, Lo?” you finally asked, looking up at your best friend. You noticed him smirk down at you and saw a fleeting hint of hesitant insecurity in his green eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

He shrugged against you, still grinning. “I know how much you enjoy stargazing, and I'm aware you've had a rough week, so I wanted to give you a chance to relax for a bit.”

You softened as you gazed up at him. Logan was right—you had been having a rough week. The children had been sweet, but the workload had been overwhelming. You couldn't help but appreciate how Logan was always looking out for you.

“Thank you…” you whispered.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He winked before he looked back up at the sky. “Why don't you show me another constellation?”

You giggled as you pointed out another cluster of stars, but more often than not, Logan found it hard to focus on the stars. After all, he had a bright light of his own by his side daily that captured all of his attention.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A year had passed since you moved in with Logan, and autumn was already around the corner. The temperature was gradually dropping, and the air became crisper. The trees' leaves were starting to fade from vibrant greens to tamer shades of bronze and gold. You had always loved this time of year—it was that perfect season where you could bundle up in layers when you were outside, then retreat indoors in the evenings, getting cosy with a hot chocolate and a good book.

It was during seasons like this that you found yourself wishing you could cuddle up with someone, enjoying a movie or simply each other's company. But it wasn't just anyone you wanted by your side—it had always been Logan for you.

For the longest time, you were content in just keeping all your feelings hidden. Lately, though, the longing had been getting harder to bear. Wanting someone you knew you couldn't have was starting to feel unbearable, slowly eating away at you. And even though you knew he could never be yours, it didn't stop you from savouring the sweet ache in your heart every time he smiled or when he pulled you into a warm, platonic hug.

All the stupid fluttery feelings in your stomach every time his eyes would catch yours, or the way your heart beat fast whenever you were in close proximity to him. You knew it had been years since you'd known Logan, but you couldn't help the effect he always had on you. The way he left you yearning for more. But, of course, you tried to bury those feelings down deep, reminding yourself that Logan could never feel the same way about you as you felt about him.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

One lazy afternoon, with no classes scheduled for you to teach, you found yourself by the lake on the X-Mansion grounds, practising your water bending. The water flowed seamlessly around you as you moved your arms, bending it effortlessly to your will. As you went through each movement, you could feel a pair of eyes on you, observing every precise motion, your muscles tensing with each fluid shift. A light sheen of sweat formed on your brow, and your face held a fierce look of concentration as you focused on perfecting your stance and movements.

Several moments had passed, and the person watching you still hadn't spoken a word. By now, you were almost certain it wasn't just anyone—it had to be Logan. Anyone else would have said something by now, maybe greeted you or asked about your training. But not Logan. He had a way of lingering in silence, watching you in that quietly intense way of his, never feeling the need to fill the space with unnecessary words.

“Well, are you just going to stand there and stare, or do you plan on saying something?” you asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Logan grunted, “I think I'll just keep watching. I quite like the view from here.”

A flush of warmth spread across your face, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach at his words. You hesitated for a moment, pausing your movements before he spoke again.

“Don't stop on my account, sweetheart.”

You knew he was wearing one of his signature grins, and you so desperately wanted to wipe it off his face. As you grew more flustered, a wave of frustration built up inside you—how could this man always have such an effect on you? An idea sparked in your mind, a mischievous smirk tugging at your lips. Deciding to continue your water bending practice while he watched, you let the water flow effortlessly around you, fully aware of his eyes tracking your every move.

Once a peaceful stillness settled in the air, you saw your opening. Without warning, you spun around with swift precision, bending the water toward him and drenching him in seconds.

Logan stood there, completely perplexed as you broke into a fit of giggles. He was drenched from head to toe, and you knew it wouldn't be long before he sprang into action. Sure enough, just seconds later, he smirked again, though this time it carried a sharper edge. “You think this is funny, bub?”

“Yeah, I kinda do,” you replied between laughs, unable to contain yourself.

But then, Logan's grin turned devious, and with a determined march, he began closing the distance between you. Your eyes widened in realisation, and without thinking, you bolted away.

“You're not getting away with this, princess,” he called out, his voice low as he gave chase.

He moved swiftly through the gardens, but you were quicker, slipping just out of sight every time he got close. His eyes darted around, scanning the area, frustration slowly turning into determination. You could hear him muttering under his breath, his footsteps getting louder as he searched for you. Your heart raced as you ducked behind a tree, trying to stifle your laughter. The thrill of the chase had adrenaline coursing through your veins.

For a moment, you thought you had lost him, but then he sniffed and just as you peeked around the tree, you saw him spot you from across the grove. His eyes gleamed with mischief as a smirk curled at the corner of his lips. “I got you,” he muttered before he moved towards you with renewed speed. You tried to slip away again, but it was too late—he had you cornered.

Soon enough, two strong arms caged you in, trapping you between the tree and his chest. A startled yelp escaped your lips as you tried to back away, only to realise there was nowhere to go. “Gotcha,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, the familiar playful glint in his eyes making your heart race even faster.

You squirmed, trying to find a way out, but his grip tightened just enough to keep you in place without being overbearing. “Logan! Let me go,” you protested, laughter bubbling up in your throat despite your attempt to sound serious.

“Thought you could get away that easily, huh?” he teased, leaning in so close that you could feel his wet clothes and the warmth of his body. The heat from his proximity spread across your own, making you acutely aware of how close you were. You bit your lip, your cheeks becoming hotter as his smirk widened. The sight of your flustered expression seemed to delight him, his satisfaction evident in his playful gaze.

“Well, this is cosy,” you remarked, but your voice barely rose above a whisper. There was a tremor in your tone, one that matched the rapid beat of your heart.

“Hm, I think so too,” he responded with the same teasing tone. You gazed up at him with bright eyes as the golden hour of evening cast a warm glow around you both. It took all his willpower not to look away, not to acknowledge the tension that hung thick in the air.

You shifted against the tree, searching for a different way to elicit a reaction from him. Your touch light, almost accidental, but it sent a shockwave through him, his breath hitching in his throat. You could feel him stiffen, sensing the tension as he reacted to your contact.

He leaned in, just enough that he could feel your breath against his skin, just enough that the space between you became almost non-existent, and just enough to hear your breath hitch.

Logan closed his eyes, as he pressed his forehead against your own. Every time he tried to speak, the words got tangled up in the mess of emotions swirling inside him. All he could think about was how close you were, how your touch burned through him, how the smell of you, that unique soft scent of yours, filled his senses and made him want to lose himself in you.

“Lo—”

Before you could finish, Ororo's voice rang out, calling your name. You felt a wave of disappointment wash over you as you realised your moment with Logan was interrupted. You had forgotten about the promise to cook together with her and Jean, and your friend's timing burst the bubble of what you thought might finally be a shared moment with him.

He grunted in frustration, pulling away from you and looking off to the side. Ororo, Jean, and even Scott soon found their way to you, their presence drawing closer. As they approached, each of them wore a grin that suggested they had noticed the tension between you and Logan. The air was thick with unspoken understanding, and it was clear that your friends had picked up on the charged moment that had just been interrupted.

You cleared your throat and stepped reluctantly away from Logan, trying to regain your composure. You forced a smile as you addressed your friends, saying, “Sorry to keep you guys waiting.” You then walked away with Jean and Ororo towards the mansion, though you couldn't help glancing back over your shoulder. Each time you looked, a hint of longing appeared on your face as you cast a final, wistful glance at Logan.

As you walked away, you heard Scott remark, “You look wet.”

Logan responded with a huff, “Fuck off, Summers.”

You couldn't help but wonder what would've happened if your friends wouldn't have interrupted you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It had been Friday evening, and you were in your office at the institute, finishing up grading the last of the papers while waiting for Logan. The two of you had plans to head home together, but he had yet to come and find you. Growing impatient, you decided to look for him yourself. You grabbed your bag and jacket before going out of your office, closing the door silently behind you. The smell of stew wafted through the mansion as you jogged down the stairs from your office to the kitchen. You quietly approached and paused when you saw him with Jean. She was chopping vegetables, while Logan leaned against the island, holding a cup of coffee.

“I don't see why you don't just do it. Everyone can see how perfect you two are for each other,” Jean had sighed.

Your eyes widened and you bit your lip nervously as you instinctively hid behind the wall. You truly hoped Logan wouldn't smell your scent while hiding, considering his heightened sense of smell. You knew you shouldn't be eavesdropping, but your curiosity had gotten the better of you. Jean's words had left you intrigued about what they were discussing.

Logan huffed, “I've already told you—” he tried arguing, but Jean cut him off mid-sentence.

“Logan, come on,” Jean said pointedly. “You keep denying it, but everyone here has seen the two of you dance around each other for years. You can't honestly tell me that you're just friends. Friends don't act the way you two do with each other.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Logan asked, tilting his head to the side. Your stomach churned as you realised they were talking about the two of you. Silently, you pressed your back against the wall and shuffled further behind it, continuing to listen.

“It means that friends don't stare at each other longingly, or they don't flirt with each other, and they certainly don't cuddle together while sharing the same bed,” Jean said, emphasising her point as Logan began to argue. “Besides,” she continued, “you've known her for a while now. There's no one you've been more comfortable with than her. We all know you'll look after each other and be happy together. So why haven't you done anything about it? All we want is for you both to be happy,” Jean concluded.

You bit your lip at her words, feeling a mix of hope and nervousness churn in your stomach. With trembling fingers, you held your breath, waiting for Logan's response. When you heard him sigh, you felt your world begin to crumble around you.

“Yeah, but Jean, it's not like that. We are not like that. We're just friends,” Logan had replied. You had pressed your teeth harshly into your lip, biting down so hard you feared you might draw blood. It was the only thing keeping you from sobbing out loud. Logan's words replayed over and over in your mind. While you had always known he felt that way, hearing it confirmed so casually had left your heart breaking.

Not wanting to listen any longer, you silently turned and hurried toward the main entrance, trying to be as quiet as possible. Once outside, tears flooded your vision as you ran to the mansion gates, searching through your bag for your phone to call a cab. Since you hadn't brought your car and had driven in with Logan that morning, calling a cab was your only option.

When the cab finally arrived, you slid into the backseat and gave the driver your instructions. As he drove you home, you took a deep breath, struggling to swallow the lump in your throat. Your breath came in labored gasps as you fought to keep from breaking down in tears. Your mind was running a mile a minute as you tried to process his words. Silently you let the tears flow down your cheeks.

When you arrived at your building, you paid the cab and noticed your phone buzzing incessantly. You quickly silenced it as you entered your apartment, not bothering to look at who was trying to contact you.

Once you entered your bedroom, you broke down just then as you let out a choked sob while stripping off your clothes. With great effort, you managed to put on your pyjamas before climbing into bed. Soon, you would let your destructive thoughts take over. Deep down, you knew you shouldn't have eavesdropped on their conversation and jumped to conclusions, especially since Logan wasn't done speaking with Jean. But you couldn't bear to stay and listen any longer. You felt too vulnerable as you let his words echo inside your head.

You had been ignoring all the texts from your friends and the calls from Logan specifically, too drained to even hold a conversation.

Eventually, you felt sleep overtaking you, utterly exhausted from a long workweek and an emotionally draining evening.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

That same night, you had jolted awake to the sound of a loud rumble. Outside, storm clouds loomed ominously over the city, with thunder crackling through them every few minutes. The storm had been raging outside your apartment, with thunder booming so fiercely it shook the windows. Curled up in your bed, you had whimpered softly, clutching a thick blanket tightly around you—not just for warmth, but for comfort and a sense of protection.

You had never liked thunderstorms, and by now, you must have tried a thousand different ways to distract yourself from them. You'd put on headphones to drown out the noise, but the knowledge of the storm outside still fed your anxiety. Thunderstorms always had a way of making you feel small and utterly helpless.

You felt a tightness building in your chest as you trembled beneath the sheets. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing and calm yourself down. In moments like these, you felt truly helpless. You knew you shouldn't feel ashamed for being this terrified, but you couldn't help it.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the song playing through your headphones, desperate to drown out the storm. Moments later, you felt the bed dip. Slowly, you opened your eyes and found Logan sitting at the end of your bed, his soft gaze fixed on you with a look of quiet concern. A wave of relief washed over you just at the sight of him. Part of you wanted to ignore him and continue being upset with everything that had happened earlier that evening, but you couldn't find the power to do so. After all, he probably didn't even know why you were upset and who were you even kidding, he was everything you needed.

He was sitting there shirtless, dressed only in a pair of grey sweatpants. His hair was tousled from sleep. If it weren't for the sheer terror you felt because of the storm outside, you knew your cheeks would be burning at the sight of him like this. You noticed his mouth moving and, reluctantly, you slid one headphone off your ear to hear him.

“W-what?” you squeaked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Sweetheart,” Logan whispered cautiously into the darkness.

At the sound of his voice, the tears that had been brimming in your eyes finally spilled down your cheeks. “I'm so sorry, I feel so stupid,” you whispered, taking off your headphones and quickly trying to wipe your tears away, embarrassed by your emotions and the fact that you were terrified by the storm.

Seconds later Logan was climbing up the bed and he was lying right next to you. His strong arms wrapped around your shaking form almost immediately, holding you tightly.

“Shhh it's okay sweet girl, I've got you,” he whispered softly as he kissed your temple. Warmth spread through you at the action and you melted into his embrace.

“I hate being scared of them, Lo,” you mumbled into his chest as he squeezed you tightly.

“It's okay princess, I got you. I won't let anything happen to you.” His hands, surprisingly soft, were stroking your skin in a soothing manner as he continued to press soft kisses around the top of your head.

As Logan held you, you felt yourself slowly begin to calm down. Even though the storm showed no signs of letting up, his presence made you feel much more at ease and secure. Logan meant everything to you—he was your anchor.

“Please, stay,” you whispered as the last few tears slipped down your cheeks.

In the dark, Logan whispered your name and tightened his embrace. “I'm not going anywhere, baby girl.”

As Logan held you close, you felt your body relax gradually. He gently ran his hand through your hair, pulling the covers over both of you and adding an extra layer of warmth.

You reflected on how he often spoke to you and the way he treated you with such care. You couldn't help but overthink his sweet and gentle treatment. You knew you were more emotional and needed extra reassurance and patience, but you had never considered that he might actually have feelings for you beyond friendship. You often felt like a burden to your friends and especially to Logan. You were fairly certain you were the only one he treated this way. His teasing sometimes seemed like it could be flirting, and despite your attempts to deny it, deep down you sensed that you were somehow special to him. 

But another part of you couldn't shake what he had said earlier that night to Jean. You felt deeply conflicted and confused about everything happening between the two of you. The uncertainty and mixed emotions left you struggling to understand his true feelings, unsure of how to navigate the situation.

So you did what felt best to you, which was communicating. Even if you hated confrontation so much, you hated being unsure even more.

“Lo?” your voice trembled as you whispered against him.

“Yeah, sweet girl?” He said gently.

You took a little longer to respond, lost in your own thoughts, overthinking everything. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest. Sensing your hesitation, Logan spoke up again, breaking through your spiralling mind.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice lingering in the air as your eyes fluttered open. His head was tilted slightly, worry etched across his face.

“'M-am fine… I just—” you stuttered, your voice cracking. Logan stared at you, waiting patiently for you to finish. “I need to talk about something, or-or it will probably eat me alive if I don't.”

Logan's brow furrowed as his concern deepened, but he remained patient, waiting for you to continue.

“I- I overheard you and Jean earlier tonight…” your voice barely above a whisper.

Recognition settled over him at your words. He sighed shortly after. “What exactly did you hear?”

“You said…” your voice faltered, cracking slightly before you took a deep breath, closing your eyes. “You said we weren't like 'that,' and that we were just friends. After hearing that, I couldn't stay. It hurt too much.” You paused, your words tumbling out in a rush. “I know I shouldn't have eavesdropped, and I'm sorry... I just—” Your voice trailed off as you buried your face in his chest, your rambling finally coming to an end.

He let out a deep sigh, pulling you closer into his embrace. One of his hands gently cupped your cheek, causing your breath to hitch at the contact. “Sweetheart,” he said, his voice steady but filled with warmth. Slowly, you opened your eyes, tears welling up as you met his gaze. Logan's expression softened, and he let out a soothing sound. “Angel, if you'd stayed a little longer, you would've heard the rest of the conversation.”

“W-what?” You squeaked, your heart pounding against your chest as you anxiously waited for him to continue.

“First of all,” he began, locking eyes with you as he spoke, “I told Jean that I couldn't tell you how I felt because I never thought you'd feel the same way. I figured you were better off not knowing how I feel about you because…” His voice faltered for a moment, a heavy sigh escaping him before he continued, “I've always believed I didn't deserve someone like you. Someone so beautiful, so patient, intelligent, caring and so sweet.”

“Lo—” It was difficult to process everything he had said. You had been so sure that he didn't feel anything more than platonic for you, so hearing that he did was overwhelming and you needed to let it sink in. “I just thought... you know, with all the people you've had over in the past, you wouldn't feel anything for me,” you said, your sadness making it hard to finish the sentence and your nerves bracing for the words you had been dreading to hear.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

“I know it sounds stupid, but I kept convincing myself that if I would have meaningless sex with random people that I would get over you. That if I told you how I felt, I’d lose you,” he went on, his vulnerability tugging at your heart. “That’s the last thing I want. You mean too much to me to risk that. I love you, and the thought of losing you—even if it meant not having you the way I wanted—was unbearable.”

Tears welled in your eyes, slowly slipping down your cheeks as he poured out his heart, leaving you in disbelief. You hiccuped through your tears, “You... y-you love me?”

His expression softened further as he took in your puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Gently, he used his hands to wipe away the tears that were slipping down your cheeks, handling you with far more tenderness and care than you had shown yourself earlier.

“Of course I do,” he replied softly. “In every universe, there's no one I love more than you.”

“Logan, you deserve me. Just as much as I deserve you,” you said, cupping his cheeks as tears continued to stream down your own. “You don't have an idea how much I love you.”

Logan smiled softly before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. His arms tightened around you as he began to pepper your face with tender kisses. You couldn't help but giggle against him, feeling the tension between you both melt away bit by bit. The tears slowly came to a stop.

As the emotional intensity of the moment subsided, you felt a sense of relief and contentment. The storm outside seemed to fade into the background as you basked in the warmth of your newfound understanding. You knew that challenges would still come, but facing them together felt infinitely more manageable now that you had acknowledged your feelings for each other.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

After placing a final kiss on the tip of your nose, he pulled back, his gaze filled with such deep affection that it left you feeling overwhelmed—but in the best possible way.

Logan caressed your face with fondness as he admired you. “You’re beautiful.”

You’d feel flustered instantly. “You’re so handsome Logan.” You whispered timidly. 

“Really?” He’d smile down at you. 

“Yes,” you whispered, continuing to meet his gaze shyly, your heart racing as his touch lingered on your skin.

You felt his hand slip beneath the hem of your nightshirt, his fingers tracing the soft skin of your back. A shiver ran down your spine at his touch, drawing his playful gaze as his eyes glinted mischievously. Your breath hitched when his other hand brushed against your bottom lip, sending warmth flooding through your body as his touch became more intimate, exploring you with quiet intensity.

“Do I make you nervous?” he teased with a devious grin.

“I guess you do,” you admitted, biting your lip bashfully.

“And why's that?” Logan asked, leaning in even closer. You could feel his breath against your lips, his nose brushing gently against yours. 

There’s a moment of silence as Logan’s face moves closer and closer to your own, both unable to verbalise just how desperate either of you feel for each other.

His hands are warm as they wander all over your back, underneath the soft fabric of your pyjamas. Your eyes flutter close as you enjoy his attention. You feel yourself get lightheaded by his affection and by the close proximity of your bodies.

As your eyes remained locked with his, the intensity between you grew. You found yourself studying every detail of Logan’s face—the small moles scattered across his skin, his beautiful green eyes, the rough stubble along his jawline. Your gaze drifted from his eyes, down the slope of his nose, until you were irresistibly drawn to his lips. His mouth looks so inviting.

How much you’ve dreamed of having them on your own.

You swallowed dryly at the intensity behind his eyes, your heart beating madly in your chest. A flare of heat rushed to your cheeks as you resolved to reveal the truth. You didn’t want to keep it from him any longer, especially with him looking at you as if he was about to devour you.

“B-because I—” you finally spoke as you stumbled over your words. You felt weak in his presence, but in the best way imaginable. Heat spreads through your body, a feverish sensation overwhelming your senses. Your heart raced, refusing to calm down, and your limbs trembled uncontrollably. It wasn’t the kind of fever that came with illness, but a warmth—tingling, like anticipation coursing through your veins. You whimpered as the same warmth settled between your thighs. “I need y-yo—”

Before you could finish your sentence, his lips crashed onto yours, kissing you with an intensity and passion that left you trembling and helpless, while soft whimpers escaped your throat. He’d tug your body fully closer against his own as his mouth claimed yours.

All your thoughts overwhelmed your brain, disabling any rational understanding of what was going on. Gradually, you leaned into Logan, melting into his embrace. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him back.

Logan groaned as he continued to kiss you with a fierce intensity, giving everything he had. You felt his tongue tracing your lips slowly. Knowing what he wanted you parted your mouth slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue inside and swirl it around yours.

You absorbed all his passion, savouring the warmth of his closeness and the sensation of his rough yet soft hands holding you tightly. You didn’t want to ask how this was happening, nor did you dare question whether it was real or just a dream.

One of his hands roamed over the bare skin of your back beneath your pyjama shirt, leaving goosebumps in his wake, while the other explored the tender curve of your neck. He held you with such tenderness as his mouth continued to move ferociously against yours.

You whimpered against him as warmth and wetness continued to pool between your thighs, your pussy throbbing as his voice rumbled with a chuckle. “You okay there, kitten?” he asked softly, his voice low as his lips brushed against your jaw.

You knew he could smell your arousal, knew he could hear how fast your heart was beating. You bit your lip, trying to stifle another sound, and you tried to bury your face into his chest, feeling the heat spreading across your face and body. Logan was having none of that, his lips quickly reunited with yours. He groaned softly, a deep rumble in his chest, as you trailed your tongue out to seek purchase in his mouth, and he opened for you without hesitation. His hands gripped at your waist and brought your body flush against his.

You wanted Logan to consume your very being. Claim you as his completely.

Soft little noises of pleasure kept leaving your mouth as he continued to kiss you. His lips pressed against yours, guiding the kiss with a gentle control that made you melt into his embrace. You surrendered completely, letting him lead as you revelled in the sensation. He was so good at kissing that all you wanted was to stay in this moment with him forever.

He pulled away after what felt like hours to breathe, his warm pants fanning across your heated face. He was still holding your face with one hand, and his thumb on your cheek moved a little, stroking your skin with so much tenderness. Murmuring against your lips, he said, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. I love you so much.” before delving back in for more.

You whimpered as he nipped at your bottom lip, then gently swiped his tongue over it to soothe the sting. You gasped, and Logan seized the moment to explore the inside of your mouth with his tongue once again. As the kiss grew more heated, you moaned, feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

Surprisingly, you completely forgot about the storm that’s raging outside.

Logan devoured you, pouring all his love into you and claiming your mouth and kissing you with so much passion, your body shuddered with want, from the need for him. He moved his lips with yours and swirled his tongue with your own. His hand then moved to tangle in your hair as he pressed his body to yours completely.

Your hands moved to bury in his hair as well. When you pulled at his hair it was a bit rougher than you intended to and it tips his head all the way back and he lets out a loud, wanton moan that makes your whole body flush with arousal. You whined as he finally pulled away, as he left your body flush and panting and craving so much more.

His mouth then moved from your lips to your cheeks as he whispered his love for you again and again. He started trailing long, hot kisses down your jaw and neck. You whimpered pitifully as he suckled lightly on the side of your neck, tilting your head back instinctively to bare more of your soft skin to him.

“Fuck, baby, you’re everything.” He groaned as he bit down gently on the junction of your neck and shoulder. You cried out, impulsively grinding your hips against his own, desperately searching for some much needed friction against your throbbing clit. “You’re mine.” He’d growl against your skin.

You gasped, your eyes flying open when you felt his erection pressing against your pussy. You moaned as your core started clenching around nothing, begging for some attention, his attention.

Logan groaned as you continued to grind against him, grasping your hips into his hands to halt your movements. You whined in protest, as he then rolled you both over, hovering above you as he pinned your arms gently against the mattress.

“So needy.” He chuckled as a devious smile would grow on his face. “Does your sweet little pussy want some attention?” He grinned when you whimpered underneath him, before he continued. “I can always smell how much you need me.” He growled before he rolled his hips against yours again. “This virgin pussy is always begging for me to fill her.”

You didn’t have time to become embarrassed as high pitched whimpers slipped past your lips as he continued to grind against you. You’ve craved this man so bad, and now that he was yours you didn’t want to hold back anymore. He intertwined your hands together as he moved his big straining and clothed cock against your now soaked panties. 

“Love those little noises you make for me, such a good girl.” He moaned against the skin of your neck as he pressed open mouthed kisses and licks across your skin. 

You whined as he gave you a particular hard thrust. You could feel how massive he felt as he rubbed his cock against your clothed folds. You couldn’t deny that it made you nervous but all you could think about was that you needed and wanted him to take you so bad. More wetness would pool down your heated cunt as you fantasise about him filling your tiny pussy with more than just his cock. “Ah, n-need yo-you Lo…”

Suddenly everything became overwhelming, the temperature in the room rising quickly, the feel of his thick cock thrusting against you, the feel of his touch as it wandered all over your skin and the fact that you were going into a foreign but intimate territory with your best friend had you feeling hot all over.

His features softened as he took in how overwhelmed and flustered you looked. He slowed down his movements and one of his hands would move to hold your face as he slowly leaned down to peck your lips. “You’re okay baby girl, I’ve got you. I will take good care of you.” He whispered against your lips. His low voice sent a new wave of arousal down your body. “Tell me what you need, kitten.”

“You, I need you, Logan. I've always only needed you,” you whimpered against his lips as you reconnected them. His hands gently caressed your thighs, and your mind became hazy with intense lust and overwhelming love for him. Your brain instantly turned into mush as you continued to kiss each other passionately.

The kiss then increased with an intensity that had you gasping for breath. You rolled your hips into his, rubbing your throbbing clit against him for some friction against your core. You moaned into his mouth as you rubbed against him. The front of his sweatpants strained as he moved along with you.

As you kept losing yourself in the kiss, you felt his hands wander up your thighs up to the hem of your shirt. His fingers brushed delicately over the sides of your ribs, moving up and down your skin repeatedly, his fingertips mapping out every dip and curve as they wandered all over your skin.

“You're beautiful,” he whispered against your lips, admiring you, making you glance up at him shyly from beneath him. He pulled away just slightly only for him to hold the hem of your shirt, and you could tell what he was about to ask before he opened his mouth. You bit your lip and nodded vigorously, causing him to chuckle breathlessly. “You want me to take this off?” He questioned as he tugged at the fabric gently. 

You nodded bashfully, unable to use or trust your voice during that moment. 

He smiled softly, his hands gently brushing under your shirt before hooking his fingers into the fabric. Slowly, he lifted it, and you raised your arms to help him slip it off.

You felt heat rising on your skin the way his eyes roamed all over you, taking in every little detail. The way Logan was looking at you, eyes filled with nothing but love, adoration and lust, made you feel so alive.

He discarded the piece of clothing to the side and began mouthing along your collarbone with affection. You trembled underneath him as he showered you with his attention. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered repeatedly as his mouth travelled all over your exposed skin.

His large hands moved to the curve of your waist where it met your hips and clutched it, holding you tight as he littered damp kisses and nips to your shoulders and any skin along the way down to your breasts. You whimpered as he traced the tip of his nose over the swell of your breast.

He smirked as he looked up at you, breathing in through his nose as he inhaled your scent and you couldn’t help but shiver when he exhaled warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “Fuck, baby girl, you’re so hot.”

Then, he wrapped his lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucked and licked with passion.

“L-Lo,” you mewl as you try to grind your hips against him, your cunt seeking friction as it throbs with need.

“Feeling good kitty?” He quipped back as he grins up at you. You felt your skin flush with heat as you just stared down at him. Lust was written all over your face and he had no trouble reading your expression. So he resumed licking, long, lavishing licks with the flat of his tongue over your pebbled nipple as the other hand which was occupying your other breast, travelled all the way down to your panties. 

As his fingers slipped underneath the band of your lacy underwear, down to where you needed him the most, his mouth fell open to unleash a loud groan onto your nipple as he felt your wetness, sliding his fingers between your soaked folds.

He explored your wet cunt patiently. Heat overwhelmed your senses as Logan continued to litter soft kisses all over your chest. Your hands found his head, running your fingers through his hair as his mouth continued to wander all over your naked skin.

Logan’s lips moved slowly down your body, kissing every little place he could find on your skin while his hands traced along.

Soon, he would retreat his hand from your heat, leaving you a whimpering mess. He then leant forward, his face meeting your sex, breathing in the smell of your pussy, running his nose against the damp patch on your underwear. You whimpered as he inhaled your scent. “Fuck kitten,” he growled as he couldn’t seem to stop smelling you. “This pussy smells so good, I can’t wait to taste ya.”

A devious smile played on Logan’s lips as he looked up at you through his eyelashes. “I am sure you taste just as good as you smell, if not better.” He groaned before taking your underwear between his teeth, while pulling it off your legs slowly. A shuddering breath left your lips, speechless as you watched him take off your lacy panties, becoming needier the longer you watched him. Logan kept looking at you as he slid down your body, pulling it off of you when it reached your ankles.

Once he took them off completely he gently pushed your legs wide for him, whimpering as the air hit your wet slit. He took a moment as his eyes took over you, your glistening centre clenching around nothing as he continued to stare at your wet hole. The man between your legs would moan at the sight. Not much later, Logan smirked as he kissed all the way up to your leg, taking his sweet time to give your body the attention you deserved. He pressed soft kisses from your ankles up to your knees, his hands moving along with his mouth, caressing the insides of your thighs as he gradually moved up your legs.

His lips lingered on your thighs, licking and sucking some kisses on your soft skin, Logan’s lips were so close to where you needed him the most yet he felt so far away.

“So pretty,” he murmured as he guided your legs over either of his shoulders.

You were about to beg as his lips detached from your thigh, only for moments later to feel him nuzzling against your pussy, smearing your juices across his lips and opening you up to his skilled tongue.

You gasp and squirm at the contact of his wet tongue.

He then pulls back for a second, “pussy tastes so good,” he moaned before his fingers moved to spread your outer lips for him. “But I think I'm gonna play with my girl for a bit.” Logan smiled as he slid a finger inside of you, watching the way your body squirmed at the sensation, moaning against the pillow next to you as you tried to muffle yourself.

You moaned as he moved his thick and long finger inside your tight walls. “So wet for me baby girl, you’re literally dripping on my finger,” he said before he pressed some kisses on your pubic bone, making you buck your hips in response. “Easy, kitty, we have all night.”

“L-Logan, please please I need more. Need your mouth and just. More. Pleaseeee need you so ba—” your whining got cut off the moment you felt his lips wrap around your clit, sucked it into his mouth, coaxing a loud but broken moan out of you. “F-Fuck!”

You felt like screaming, you didn’t know what to do with your hands, feeling so lost and overwhelmed with the pleasure Logan was giving you already. He dove between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance along with his finger before he travelled up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet appendage before sucking your button into his mouth.

The whine that came out of you only drove Logan to seek out more of those heavenly sounds. As his one single digit pumped in and out of you, you couldn’t help but appreciate that his fingers felt so much more pleasurable and thicker than your own. As bliss overwhelmed your senses, you felt your whole body start to tremble. 

Your core began clenching around his finger, begging for more. He pumped his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace. Instinctively you tried moving your hips, slowly, grinding against his hand and mouth as he moaned. He gave you an intense look as he continued to fuck you with his finger. His eyes couldn’t seem to stay in one place as he admired how beautiful you were underneath him.

You were panting heavily, barely able to think straight, your mind turning hazy as he slowly slipped a second finger inside your tight channel. 

Logan moved them slowly at first as your pussy tried to adjust to the addition. The stretch was overwhelming but oh so satisfying. Little whimpers left your lips as he fucked you with his fingers. He moved his face back to meet yours, engulfing you in a passionate kiss, swallowing all your little mewls.

You gasped, his tongue slipped inside your mouth, kissing you with so much passion, giving you everything he had to offer. “That feels good doesn't it, princess?” Logan groaned as his thumb made contact with your clit. You bucked your hips and nodded quietly. “Use your words pretty girl,” he taunted while he curled his fingers inside you as he played with the sensitive spot inside you.

“Yes, please please Lo, feels… so good.” You moaned loudly.

Soon his lips travelled all the way down your body as whines and whimpers left your trembling lips, silently begging for more — all while he was still finger fucking you.

Logan inhaled your scent as soon as he leaned forward, but didn’t let you wait in anticipation much longer. He wet his lips before his head dipped between your legs, warm tongue licking a slow stripe across your outer lips, all the way up to your button.

“Ah, fuck!” You cried out, your hips bucking off the mattress. 

Squeaky, senseless noises bubbled up from your throat wantonly. Your hips stuttered against him and he just sighed like there was nothing in the world he'd rather do than this, eating you out on your bed.

You were a mess of his name, chanting and stuttering over and over again like a prayer. Your eyes squeezing shut to the point of tears, his mouth licked up your clit, as he continued to finger you while one of his other hands was holding your hip, pinning you to the soft sheets as you bucked into him, trying to urge him to do more.

The way he build up your arousal by pumping his fingers in and out of you, curling up ever so slightly to find the spongy spot inside of you. The familiar coil in your belly continued to build up as Logan suckled on your sensitive bud. Your abdomen tightened as he began quickening his pace again, his fingers hitting into that sweet spot with precision, had your toes curling as you clenched your thighs around his head.

Logan was lapping at you with determination, moving his fingers continuously as he slowly got you to the edge.

“Oh, my—”you whimpered, trembling digits sinking half into his brown hair and the other against your teeth, as you tried to silence yourself. “Fuck, aahh Logan, f-fuck…”

He moaned against you as his lips sealed around your clit and you bucked your hips at the action. Warmth spread throughout your whole body as he began talking you through it. “Fuckin’- you taste so good. Feels so good. You’re just… everything.”

You whimpered as he continued. “Come on,” he grunted as he pumped his fingers faster in and out of you. “Come on baby, cum for me.” 

“Ah, d-daddy,” You gasped loudly as your whole body trembled even more, the hot familiar feeling continued to spread all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving at their own accord against Logan’s hand and face. Totally unaware of the word that slipped past your lips as your body tensed as he called you ‘a good girl’ and shortly after you came against his mouth and around his fingers. 

“That’s my girl.”

Your whole mind felt like exploding and all you could see were stars. You felt so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you were experiencing. Your body still trembled as you felt yourself come down from your high.

As you slowly came back to your senses you felt him gently pull his fingers out of your pulsing hole. But you still felt Logan’s mouth on you, licking and sucking at your pussy and it didn’t feel like he was gonna stop any time soon. You whined as he moaned against you while he licked against your tight entrance, licking up your release, his tongue prodding your slick hole.

“‘S too much.” You whimpered at the overstimulation.

Logan ignored your pleas, moaning against your heat as he continued to eat you out. The man you adored so much between your legs kept sliding his tongue up and down your sensitive slit. Your little mewls and other noises of ecstasy spurred him on, to move his lips back up to your clit, sucking the nub softly between his lips. 

“You love having daddy eat your sweet pussy don’t you?” He smirked, looking up at your flustered and embarrassed face as he continued licking your soaked cunt. “No need to be embarrassed, baby. I like it.”

The walls of your pussy clenched furiously, the empty feeling inside you intensifying with every lick, and as your wetness trickled out of you, your core practically begged him to fill it up.

“Oh sweet girl.” Logan tutted as you began grinding your hips against his face as moans kept spilling from your lips. “You’re so sensitive, kitten.” He chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your clit. 

Eventually he leaned down, finally slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curled the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraged him to do it again and again.

Writhing below him, you felt him lick up and press against a sensitive spot inside that had you seeing stars, while your hips bucked against his face uncontrollably. Your fingers moved once again, gripping onto his dark hair rather harshly as you pushed your hips against his face shoving his tongue deeper inside your hole.

“Please,” you begged. “‘M close.”

“Please what?” He taunted as he continued to lick your heat.

“P-please,” you stuttered and paused before finishing timidly. “Daddy.”

“Good girl,” he said before plunging his tongue back inside you as his thumb came up to press against your little bundle of nerves. Moments later, the tension snapped inside your lower tummy, cumming with a loud whine, your hips stuttered as your vision blurred. You cried out his name, your voice unable to remain steady. 

Your hips stuttered until the final waves of aftershock pass. As you slowly came back down to reality again while you tried to catch your breath, you heard him praising you softly while he continued to lap at your wetness gently. You whined and nudged him away with your leg, only to react with a chuckle.

“Taste so good, baby. Could eat your sweet pussy all day.” He grinned as he licked the wetness off his mouth. Logan smirked, holding eye contact with you as he brought his glistening fingers to his mouth.

You giggled as he licked his fingers clean, feeling slightly embarrassed by the action. Trying to hide your flushed face, you lazily raised your hands to cover it, but Logan wasn’t having any of it. With a gentle smile, he placed tender kisses all over your hands, pulling them down slowly. Then, he leaned in closer, pressing sweet kisses to your nose, your forehead, and both your cheeks before finally capturing your lips. Each kiss was playful, filled with warmth, as laughter bubbled softly between you, his grin widening against your mouth.

He pulled away with a satisfied sigh, a warm smile spreading across his face as he reached to touch the side of your neck, tracing his fingertips up and down.

You exhaled as you melted at the feel of his touch and kissed his thumb as it came to trace across your lips. Your shaky legs wrapped around his hips, and with a playful gleam in your eyes, you gave his thumb a tender lick, holding his gaze as you rubbed your still sensitive heat against his clothed cock.

“F-fuck, you can’t just do that kitten.” He groaned as his hands came to hold your hips, stilling your movements.

You whined, pouting as you looked up at him. “Why not?”

“It’s hard to control myself around you.” He grunted as he started grinding his cock against you. Your gaze wandered downward, following the line of the vein near his V-line as it disappeared beneath his grey sweatpants. You couldn’t help but whine underneath him as he continued to grind his covered cock against your growing wetness. You gasped after giving you a particular hard thrust, that’s when you realised and felt he wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath them. He felt massive. “I’ve been trying to control myself for years. I think I’d have to control myself a bit longer.”

“W-why?” you hiccuped as he kept rutting his hips into yours.

“Don’t wanna hurt ya.” He mumbled, as his cock strained against his sweatpants.

“But I know you won’t.” You said, your voice steady, filled with all the confidence you could summon. You watched as his jaw clenched, his grip tightening slightly as he held himself back, resisting the urge to just take you like he always wanted.

“How are you so certain?” His breath hitched when you tightened your legs around him.

“I-I, because I trust you.” You continued to stutter as you both rolled your hips against each other. His eyes darkened with desire, but you could tell he was trying to restrain himself, fighting against what he truly wanted, even though the tension between you was nearly unbearable. Still, you held his gaze, unwavering. “Because you love me.”

Logan groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep control, every muscle in his body tense with the effort. You could see the conflict etched across his face, the battle between what he wanted and what he was trying to hold back. His grip on you tightened slightly, a sign of the restraint still lingering in him, though it was slowly slipping away. His breathing was ragged, and for a moment, you thought he might give in. But then, he swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay still, clinging to the last shred of restraint that hadn’t left him yet. “You don’t know how hard this is,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice thick with desire. “How difficult it’s been, every day since I met you, trying to hold back while being around you.”

“I think I do, Logan,” you whispered, gazing up at him. “Maybe not in the exact way you feel it, but I’ve struggled too, convincing myself daily that I could never have you. And now, realising I could’ve had you from the start—it’s almost unbearable.” You bit your lip, noticing how his expression softened. “That’s why I don’t want us to hold back anymore. I don’t think I can endure it any longer. Please, I need you, Logan. I love you, and I’ll always want you—”

Your words were cut off as Logan surged towards you, cupping your face as he kissed you passionately. His lips moved fervently against yours, as if he was trying to make up for every moment of restraint. Making up for any lost time. The intensity of his kiss made your head spin, your heartbeat quickening as you melted into his embrace. His hands then started roaming around your body, his hold on you tightening occasionally, pulling you closer, while his breath grew heavy as you felt every emotion as he kissed you. You clung to him, pouring out every feeling and emotion out with every heated kiss.

“I love you,” Logan murmured between tender kisses, breathlessly whispering your name.

Your own hands began wandering all over his body and eventually down his solid chest until your fingers met his abdomen, slipping momentarily underneath the waistband of his sweatpants. With a mix of urgency and desire, you tugged at them while whimpering underneath him as you continued to kiss him deeply.

“Just relax, baby. I’ve got you,” he whispered softly after pulling away from the kiss. He eventually took it upon himself to slowly peel back, shuffling a bit to rid himself of the last piece of fabric on his body. He tossed it aside, fully exposing himself to your hungry eyes.

Your breath hitched, your eyes wide. Fuck, he was massive. Long and thick in all the right ways. Just as you thought, the vein between his V Lines moved down to his cock. A spark of heat shot down to your pulsing core as you imagined how he would fit or fill you up. But it was also accompanied by a twinge of nerves.

Logan chuckled as he moved closer to you, his lips chasing your own as he enveloped you in another sweet but deep kiss. 

The two of you kissed languidly for a moment, treasuring the heat of each other's bodies as your lips slot together with ease, but soon enough the kisses become deeper, more frantic and hands start to grip tighter and legs tangling together. 

It's like you're both starved, this insatiable hunger for each other. 

You couldn’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his thick cock. You whined as it turned slick as you kept grinding yourself against him, and he had no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.

You gasped openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You were so wet. Logan swallowed your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against you. He kissed you full with fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.

He held his length in his hand as he kept rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you were squirming underneath him, and back down. The thought of his thickness finally entering your pussy made you wetter by the second, turning you more on. Logan swallowed your little mewls with his mouth, his hips rolling with yours.

You were trembling against him, full of anticipation. His body covered your whole body with his. You writhed against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and consuming you with pleasure once again.

“P-please, Logan.” You stuttered, your body trembling underneath him as you waited for his next move. 

Logan hummed as he concentrated while circling your clenching hole teasingly. You arched your back slightly as you whined, silently begging to finally fill your pussy the way you’ve always wanted him to do.

“Relax, baby girl.” He whispered after he licked and kissed underneath your ear.

“Please d-daddy, I-I need you.” You whimpered in anticipation. Logan would grunt loudly before nudging the tip of his cock against your soaked hole. Your legs trembled underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. “Want you to fill this little pussy. Need you t-to fill it with more than your cock. N-need your cum.” You whispered seductively against his ear as his last bit of restraint snaps. 

At your words, Logan gradually put more pressure on your entrance making you whimper underneath him, once he finally slid his tip inside you, a gasp elicited from the both of you.

You’re aware this was just barely the tip of him, but you couldn’t help but feel the stretch burn already. Logan slid in so slowly it was agonising. You cried out as he gradually pushed more of his pulsing cock inside your own clenching hole. He was so big.

You tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling slightly as you whined underneath him. He panted along with you, his warm breath fanning over your face while he kept his forehead pressed against yours. The stretch stung, but his pace kept it bearable. He guided himself a centimetre further, then another, another, until you were digging your nails into his scalp, a gasp spilling from your lips.

His hips stilled instantly once he heard the pained noises falling from your lips. Tears began to prickle at your waterline, a combination of discomfort and the overwhelming feelings that were coursing through you.

“Doing so good for me baby,” he praised as he peppered your face with gentle kisses. “You’re doing so good for me.”

“Please,” you whimpered as your eyes fluttered close.

Logan continued to move almost painfully slow, letting you adjust to every centimetre of him. After a couple of seconds you were able to relax more into it. You whimpered, clutching his shoulders at the stretch, the heat in your abdomen growing as your walls fluttered around him, pleasure beginning to bloom in your stomach.

“So full…” you whined.

“Such a good girl,” he grunted softly. You think there wasn’t a possibility to get more wet but as he utters those words you felt your heat get even more wet. He leaned down as he kissed your lips gently, as he filled you up bit by bit. He hoped the sweetness of his embrace would soften the sting.

You’re trembling as you canted your hips up, begging for him to fill you to the brim, while you gripped the bedsheets between your fingers. “Please Lo, need more. I can take it, daddy.” You whimpered as you involuntarily and repeatedly tightened around his thick cock.

He groaned at your desperate whines, losing his composure momentarily as he thrust the rest of his length all the way inside your tiny hole. The head of his dick kissing your cervix once he bottomed out. You cried out as you were trembling underneath him, trying to adjust to his size while your pussy kept pulsing around his cock.

“Fuck, so fuckin’ tight.” He hissed as he let you adjust to his cock. 

His lips came to press soft and tender kisses all over your face as he let you relax. Tears brimmed at the corners of your eyes as you continued to adjust around him. You felt so full, as if he was made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely had you seeing stars and digging fingernails into his shoulders. You felt one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reached up to your face.

His breathing was heavy as you squeezed his cock repeatedly. Small whimpers left your lips as you squirm underneath him.

You needed more. 

You hadn’t even realised your eyes had drifted shut until you slowly opened them, gazing up at Logan with a soft, pleading look. “Please, Logan.”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated deep in his chest.

“Need more.” You whispered.

“Aww, does my sweet girl need me to move?” he teased, tilting his head with a playful smirk.

“Need you, please.” You begged as your pussy clenched around his thick cock rather hard which made him groan above you. “Please, I need you to fuck me so bad.”

His breath hitched as he exhaled shakily, before nodding quietly. Slowly, he started moving inside you, gentle but deep. One hand reached down to play with your clit, while the other one went to intertwine your fingers together, holding your hand tightly. 

The sting hurt for a while, but it easily morphed into a more pleasurable feeling as he moved against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he was giving you was mixed between pain and pleasure.

He grunted as he dropped his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin just below it. Soon enough the pain would completely disappear and all you could feel was pure bliss.

Slowly, you were getting used to his girth, anticipating it every time he pulled out of you before moving forward. Your legs are splayed open on either side of his hips as he ground his cock into you. The angle was so good, gradually he would pick up his pace, leaving you a whimpering mess underneath him. As he fucked into you in languid strokes, the sound of slick skin and your noises of pleasure could be heard in your bedroom.

“How do you feel?” he whispered against your ear.

“Feels so good.” You moaned as you tightened around his cock, this time voluntarily.

You whimpered as he picked up the pace, angling himself in a certain way inside you. He finally leaned down to wrap his arms around you, the action elicited a gasp out of you as you grab at the sheets around you, as he fucked you harder and faster.

Every time he’d thrust inside you, his pelvic bone would drag along your throbbing clit, making you cry out his name in pure ecstasy. 

“You’re taking me so well, sweet girl. Doing so so, good for me.” He whispered against your skin as he moved to nuzzle his face against your neck.

Soft grunts fell from Logan’s lips whenever he hit a specific deep spot inside you. You whimpered as his lips moved back up to your lips, enveloping them in a heated kiss. You melted completely against him, holding you close to him as he fucked you. He snaked one of his hands down between your conjoined bodies finding your clit as he rubbed two fingers over the sensitive nub.

At a certain point you felt him slide into a pressure point in your core and coupled with the way his fingers circled your clit, it had you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the pleasure he was providing you. The whimpers that fell from your lips became higher pitched as he picked up his pace.

“Feeling good, kitten?” He groaned, as his lips curled into a mischievous smile as he admired the way your face twisted in pure bliss. Too overwhelmed by the new experience. Filth and praise continued to come out of his mouth as he fucked you. “This pussy was made for daddy.”

His mouth covered your own instead as he swallowed all your little noises of pleasure, you could feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tighter with every movement and every touch.

Your whimpers, gasps of pleasure and pants increased as ecstasy and warmth overwhelmed your senses.

“Taking daddy’s cock so well, baby.”

His hands couldn’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You whimpered at the feeling of his speed, feeling another orgasm coming so close, eyes tightly shut and legs locked bruisingly around Logan’s hips. He could feel it too, in the way you clenched and squeezed around his length, and he began to drive even harder into your pussy as he tilted his hips gently, searching for the one place that he hoped would blow your mind.

“Ah, daddy—” you hiccuped as he fucked you so good you felt like a blabbering mess. “Need you to come inside my pussy...”

“Is that what you want?” He growled as you pulsed around him. “Can’t believe it… it’s your first time and you’re already begging for me to cum inside. So filthy. You’re close aren’t ya?”

You nodded furiously as your arms trembled as they wrapped around him, your nails digging in his back as he moaned on top of you. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, was tingling down to your legs, ready to snap at any moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “Bet you’d look even prettier with my cum inside your pussy. All full and messy.”

“Please…” you moaned as you thought about him filling you up. “Please Lo, baby, daddy… please fill this pussy up.”

He grunted as he buried his face into your neck as he fucked into you, making the whole bed rattle at his force.

“You want to cum pretty girl?”

You nodded frantically at his words while your eyes fluttered close as you bit your lip harshly. You were bucking up beneath him, nails digging into his skin even more as his hand moved back to your clit as another came to intertwine your hands together, pinning them to the bed. He rubbed your clit with enough pressure to ensure you’ll cum around him.

“Cum for daddy.” Logan demands softly.

And when he finally nudged against that spot inside you coupled with his deep voice– you were exploding, shattering, and detonating all at once, as you cried out his name. Blood was rushing so wildly in your ears that you couldn’t possibly hear the way you wail and sob as he crashed his lips onto yours, swallowing all your noises. Your head lolled back, your back arching violently as you twist and contort in pleasure underneath him.

“That’s it, good girl.” Logan moaned in your ear as your walls spasmed and pulsed around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pushing himself up as he thrust deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “You want me to fill this pussy up? Make it all messy?”

You were still in a daze but you were able to understand him so you nod vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. Your pussy squeezed around his cock in anticipation. “Please…”

“Fuck, take it baby.” It washed over him instantly, hips stuttering into you as he grew desperate, eyes squeezing shut when he felt his cock throb inside of you before hot spurts of his seed splashed along your walls, painting them in ribbons of white. The warmth of his seed filled you up and spread inside your pussy. The feeling made you whimper, limbs limp on the bed as he shallowly thrust into you, making sure you took every last drop. 

His warm cum filled you up deeply, the mild heat of it settling deep inside you and causing you to squirm under him. Logan panted as he let his body slump against yours. He rested on top of you, trying to steady his breath. His cock was still nuzzled deep within you, still half hard as it kept his cum from leaking out.

It was a blurry haze when you came back to your senses, your whole body was aching whilst simultaneously feeling the most relaxed you've ever been, equally as exhausted as it was energised, and you didn’t bother trying to question why. Just pure contentment.

Once both of you caught your breaths, Logan leaned his forehead against yours before kissing you tenderly.

“That was…” He breathed, smiling tiredly at the complete dopey mess he's made of you; hair all over the place and eyes lidded heavily, heated skin glowing and your lips looking swollen from all the kisses you’ve both shared.

“Oh yeah, that was mind blowing.” Your voice came out hoarse, still recovering from the height and volume it had gone, and you cleared your throat gently before you smiled up at him.

“I love you.” He whispered before he captured your lips in a deep and lazy kiss. You could feel his soft mouth smiling against yours as you whimpered against him. You felt yourself melting against his embrace as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I love you too.” You whispered back against his mouth. 

You shifted slightly when you felt that he was still hard inside you. Biting your lip, you squeezed purposely around him at the realisation. Logan groaned at the feeling, his large palms sliding up your sides in a soothing manner. 

“Don’t do that.” Logan grumbled but you saw a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Why not?” You giggled as your hands trailed through his hair.

“Makes me wanna fuck you again.” Your boyfriend mumbled.

“Hm, that’s kind of the point.” You continued to giggle.

Logan chuckled as he pulled his head back, looking at you with a mirthful smile.

Before you knew it, he pulled out only to man handle your body in the position he wanted you to be. Manoeuvres your body until you’re on your tummy. His hands came to hold your hips, pulling them up, your ass in the air for him.

He kneads the flesh of your cheeks before spreading them apart for him. Your body slumps slightly forward with exhaustion but Logan is quick to grip your hips, holding you in the same position. “Oh kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He tutted. 

Your cheeks flushed with heat as you prepared yourself for a long night filled with passion.

thank you for reading 🩷🩷🩷

[blastoqueen]

Sunrise.

Chapter 4

Rating: Teen and Up

Relationships: Noa x Mae (Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes)

Content warnings: None

Comments: English is not my first language. The chapter problably has a lot of bad english, but in my defense I wrote this with a terrible headache. Anyway this doesn’t have a lot of plot, I just wanted to write something sweet between them

When Noa looked at Mae, the first thing that came to mind was her eyes. Bright blue, looking deep into his soul. Next thing he thought of was her long hair, entangled and dirty, he often wanted to tell her that she should just cut it all.

“If you are going to be a hairless being, do it right” he never dared to say those words out loud, but the need was strong.

There was a part of him, a confusing and strange part of him, that wanted to touch the brown hair and detangled every not. He has seen Mae do that with her hands.

It had been two weeks since Mae settled in the village. Noa never told the human, but it took a lot of convincing and yelling for the elders to accept her permanently into their clan. He felt almost embarrassed when he had to make an announcement to the rest of the apes, telling them that Mae was a part of them now, and that they should respect her as long as she did her part in the community. Of course, there were disagreements, but eventually most of them came to accept the Echo in the Eagle Clan.

“But going back to her hair…”

------------

“Why only females… come with you?” Soona asked Mae. They were at the lake, getting clean.

“Actually, humans don´t shower next to each other… ideally” the human responded.

“Why?” Case, Soona´s friend interrogated.

“We are shy”

Mae removed her clothes and step into the water, joining the other two females, who were fighting playfully.

“Are you mom?” Case asked.

“What?”

“Your chest”

Mae felt self-conscious, she braced herself, covering up her breast and looking away.

“No, I´m not a mom”

“Oh. Echo thing then”

Soona pinched her friend.

“Chest is big” Soona explained, trying to get Mae out of her shy shelf “Only moms get chest that big… to feed”

“Oh” the human girl said, she uncovered herself, starting to scrub the dirt out of her skin “Yeah, for humans is normal. Most girls have this. You don’t have to be a mom”

They continued getting clean, and when they were done, they relaxed in the grass, watching the sunset.

“I know nobody… sees beauty in you” Case said “but I do. I think you are… pretty”

Mae stayed silent for a few seconds, not sure if she should feel offended.

“I see the beauty too” said Soona “Your body… is different, hairless, thin. But there is beauty… in that. Even if you… are not like ape”

The human smiled, she felt safe, appreciated, loved.

She felt also pretty. And that was nice

--------

“Where were you, Mae?!” Noa asked. He came running to her and almost hug her. Luckily, he stopped in time “Hair is wet”

“Calm down. I was taking a shower, with the girls” Mae said, almost ignoring him and passing by him

“What? You took shower recently” the ape started to follow her into her room in one of the towers.

“Yeah, humans need to shower often. Be grateful, otherwise you would be begging me to take a shower”

When they got into her shared room, she stopped him right at the entrance.

“Goodnight Noa” she said with a smile. This would be fun.

“Wait what?” the male got confused, she wasn’t going to let him in? Maybe chat a little bit like other nights?

“I share this room, Noa. I can´t just invite a boy whenever I want” she had this grin on her face… the ape catch on her game.

“Oh, I see. Well, if I cannot come in, maybe you should come out” he responded back, leaning into the wall.

“And go where?” Mae asked with a funny smile.

“You´ll see”

“Would there be climbing? You know I prefer walking”

“Do not worry. We take horses” he said. Mae closed the door of her room, ready to follow the Eagle Clan leader.

She started to walk when a hand stopped her.

“And by the way, if we climb, just get on my back, Echo” Noa whispered in her ear.

-------

“Are you allowed to run away in the middle of the night?” Mae asked.

They were in a green field with knee-length grass walking under the moon light and a torch.

“I am not running away” the ape said distracted, looking down to the grass, concern in his face.

“What´s wrong?”

“They should be dancing”

“What?”

“I wanted to show you the lighting dancers”

Mae stared at the ape. Was he loosing his mind?

“Wait!” Noa spoke “They are here”

Right when the girl was about to make a sarcastic comment, a firefly emerge from the grass, shining bright. Then, more of them started to fill the air. Dancing.

“Have you seen one of these?” Noa asked her

“No. I read about them. But I have never… woah”

The human watched fascinated how those little insects were producing light and just flying around, illuminating the dark night. It was truly amazing.

“Thank you for showing me this” Mae said with happiness.

“Anytime”

The fireflies kept dancing and Noa kept falling.

[winterarmyy]

Kiss It Better

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of. 

Summary: In which the reader refused to let Bucky go down on her lately because she's embarrassed of the chafing marks on her inner thighs.

Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Words: 3.2k++

Warnings: 18+ contents, no minors allowed, nsfw, cunnilingus, cum eating, soft fluff, not much of angst but there's sprinkles of feels, body insecurities, bucky is in love and in heat tbh, i think he is particularly unhinged and filthy in this one but hey, you tell me. idk if i need to remind y'all about this but english is not my first language so my grammar are prolly fucked. Anyway--

Inspiration: Guess who felt a little soft and decided to wear a skirt to work? Yup, that would be me. No, because I commute to work (or basically anywhere) and there is quite a distance of walking in between the journey. Note that your girl here walk fast asf (basically running at this point).  And because them inner thighs ain't got no gap between them, so i got myself some blisters/chafing :') then i fell into a self-deprecating despair for the whole day and it hurts whenever i walk, at that time i just want Bucky to kiss it better. Fast forward a few days later, here we are.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

She could feel it. His burning gaze following her every move. Observing, calculating. And she knew that must not show any signs of discomfort; not on her face nor from the slightest jolts of her hips. She must not gave him a reason to question her.

She can't.

So she continue walking around their room, back and forth from the bathroom to the wardrobe, as if every step she took was followed by a burning sensation on her skin. She momentarily stood in front of the row of clothes hanging on the rack, her back facing the bed where Bucky had been sprawling on since she went in for a shower.

Honestly, she was standing there suspiciously 'too long', as if she was choosing an outfit for a date night, when clearly she was just getting ready for bed. When she realized that, she quickly pulled out a clean set of pyjamas and walk back into the bathroom.

Bucky's eagle eyes followed her figure, disappearing behind the locked door. His lips pursed as his cogs of thoughts spins around, trying to find answer a question that his lover keeps avoiding but it was useless.

He can't think straight. Especially when he was undeniably famished. He had not got a taste of her his sweet pussy for about 2 weeks now and he was quite literally about lose his fucking mind. 

When his sweetgirl refuses to go further than kissing and making out, of course he obliged. She has every right to 'no' and he respects her wishes. Then it happened again the next day. And the next. Then again, and again. 

Normally, people would've assumed that maybe she was on her period, and she is not comfortable having any sexual intimacy when menstruating. But, Bucky can tell that, that was not it. Because first of all, it was way too early for that time of the month, he knows her schedule.l very well. Second of all, he would've smell the blood if she was on her period.

Most of his senses are enhanced after all.

So, why was she avoiding it?

Bucky's is completely fine if sex was not something she wanted to do, but not even letting him eat her out? Now that's concerning. At least for him.

Because he needs her. He needs to suck on that needy little clit of hers, make it wet and swollen. He needs to lap on that sweet juices when she cums on his tongue.

Fuck. He's getting all work up now, thinking about it.

He swore that if this keeps going on, one of these days he might just spread his legs and fuck his fist on their bed while she's tied on a chair on the other side of the room. Maybe forcing her; seducing her, to watch his desperate cock become wet and messy would give her a clue of what he is feeling now.

Absolutely needy and deprived of that pretty little cunt of hers.

He was quite distracted with the filfthy thoughts until he heard the clicking sound of the bathroom door unlocked.

As she walked towards the bed, Bucky felt like his lungs stopped providing oxygen through his body, "Pretty." His eyes sparkled affection as the voice in his head echoed his thoughts. It wasn't that he have not seen her in those pyjamas before, he had. Many times in fact. The very same lavender set with tiny little cartoon cats printed all over the fabric.

The same ones that she wore when she came rushing to his side on one of those sleepless night. The time when she hold him close, distracting him away from the nightmare by asking the most random question of "You know, Bucky... These cats supposedly have the same expression, except for one. Do want to try and find it?"

He found it. It was near the hem of her right sleeve. And by that time, his nightmare was no where near his mind, the next thing he knew, he fell right back to sleep with her in his arms. It was his favourite pair of pyjamas that she ever worn.  Nothing compares.

A loving smile unconsciously appeared on his face when his lady threw a sweet smile at him as she walked toward the bed, "My baby's so pretty." He thought.

The grin on his lips lasted, but not for long. Especially when he saw the tiny frown on her face, the faltered steps and when he heard that brief sound of a painful hiss slipped out of her lips.

So the moment she sat down on her side of the bed, Bucky already had his hands on her. Arms instantaneously wrapped around her waist, before effortlessly pulling her back onto his sturdy chest.

She giggled gleefully from his sudden rush of affection  and that surely managed to trigger a chuckle out of Bucky. He hums and proceed to purr in crook of her neck, "What's wrong, baby?"

She could feel his throat rumbling at the back of her neck, "Did he notice it?". Her heart beat ever so slightly picked up its' pace but she planned to act like opposite of it, "Hmm? What do mean 'what's wrong'?" She asked.

Bucky can hear the change tempo coming from within her ribcage, he knew something was wrong, "I just want to know how are you feeling."  He pressed a long and tender kiss on the shoulder.

The warmth of his breath tickled her skin, "Now? Hmm. I feel very loved." She smiled dreamily as she closes her eyes.

Bucky left out a brief laugh at her response, this cheeky little bunny, "That's true, but how are you really feeling, hmm? Like physically?" He urges softly.

She thought about it for awhile; contemplating whether she should just tell him the truth or proceed to act like she okay. Well, she chose the latter, "Hmmm physically. In this position? Very comfy." She wiggled her body back into him, closing the non-existent gap between their bodies and gripping Bucky's arms around her a little tight.

Though her plushy ass was rubbing against his crotch just nicely, but the former winter soldier was not going to let that distract him from his mission. He needs to know what she's hiding behind that sweet smile, "Doll..." his voice was stern and she knew he was not having it.

His calling was only met with silence when she didn't reply verbally. Since she was looking down, Bucky cannot see the frown on face and the wobbling worries in her eyes. But he did picked up on the anxiousness of her heart; beating faster by the second.

"I..." her voice cracked at the first word she said, and Bucky knew he fucked up. He swiftly maneuvered her body to sit on his lap, facing him. His metal hand craddled her soft cheek, and his flesh ones gently caresses her back, "Hey hey hey, doll, what's wrong? Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pressure you." His voice was laced with panic.

When she only had her gaze down, Bucky tenderly coaxed her, "Bunny, look at me." His hand guided her by the chin and when they made eye contact, he apologized again, "I'm sorry. I just want you to feel better. Forgive me." He leaned in a planted a kiss on her forehead. Then, her nose. And her cheeks, all over her face, muttering his words of apology.

She felt bad that Bucky apologized for something that was clearly not his fault. She's the problem in this situation. Her negativity, her insecurity was what drove her away from Bucky for the past 2 weeks. She knew that. And she knew it wasn't fair to him.

Knowing Bucky, he's probably blaming himself for her actions. And she didn't want that. She decided to tell him the truth, "I just..." Anxiety runs through her veins when she thought about it again. Would she be able to handle it if Bucky reacted negatively to her truth? Probably, not. "Just... promise that you won't be disgusted by it... Or get the ick from it."

Bucky frowned in confusion, "I don't even know what 'get the ick' means but I promise." He swore.

She let out a short laugh at his comment, causing him to smile along. Seeing how loving his gaze was, it gave her the strength to confess. She started with explaining how she had been busy at work this month. With launch of the new product, and her being one of th product manager, she was obligated to visit the branches around New York.

Bucky listened to words attentively, at first he thought maybe she was trying to say that she's been stressed lately. But then she started to explained about how she had been wearing skirts to work most of the days, because it was one of the their campaign's rules and Bucky does not think that 'stress' was what this would conclude to.

Nevertheless, he didn't lose his attention.

"But basically what I'm trying to say is..." She took a deep breath before continuing, "It's just... My inner thighs are chafed..." her voice was barely audible at the end of the sentence but Bucky caught it perfectly.

He thought about it for awhile before asking, "So, you mean to say that you got blisters on your inner thighs?" He wanted to confirm that his understanding was accurate.

She looked down in shame as she nodded to his question.

Bucky responded by pulling her closer, and kissed her forehead, "Aww doll. Is this why you've been avoiding me? Because it hurts? Why didn't you tell me earlier? I could've helped you. I mean I could help apply some meds or--"

Horrified at the idea of him seeing marks; the literal reminder of how fat she is caused her to blurt, "No!" She pushed Bucky away, eyes widen in horrid.

"No?" Bucky frowned quizzically at her intense reaction.

Realizing what she just had just done,  she composed herself, and spoke, "It's... it's not a pretty sight. And I don't want to show it to you. Plus, if my thighs are a little thinner than they are now. Then, this wouldn't happen. If only these thighs are not like... fucking fat as they are we wouldn't have to go through this. And you wouldn't need to hear all this. You wouldn't---"

Bucky knew that once she was in the state of insecurity, she self-deprecate herself like she was less worthy than the goddesss that she is. So, instead of arguing with her, he simply intercepted her rambling, "Show me."

She stopped the seemingly endless word-vomit, and titled her head to the side, "Huh? No. Bucky I just said--"

Bucky grabbed her by the waist and effortlessly lifted her off his lap and onto the bed, caging her  below him, "And I said... Show. Me." His tone was more like an order rather than a request.

She didn't dare to defy him, when his gaze was as rigid as they were now, so pulled her pants off; slowly, reluctantly. When the pants was at the last inches before it's completely off, Bucky took control and quite literally ripped it off from her.

The sudden action resulted to her body needing to hide itself from his darken eyes. Her thighs clammed together as a whine slipped from her lips. The friction of her wounds brushing against each other was burning her delicate skin.

Bucky quickly softens when he heard her pained voice,  he pushed himself off from her and kneeled on the bed before her. "Doll, please..." His hands gently squeezes the side of her thighs as he pleads, "...Let me see."

Slowly spreading her thighs apart, Bucky's eyes are now focusing on the red marks on her skin. His thumbs absentmindedly traces the area around the broken skin. He was so concentrated that he didn't say a word. And that only triggered her insecurity that she started to rambled something about how she will start going in a diet and she'll add more intense leg workout in her routine.

But her voice was only a muffled strings of incoherent sounds in Bucky's ears when he finally processed everything that happened from 2 weeks ago until now.

The realization hit him like a high speed train with a broken break system. Did she really turned him down because of this? Did she really starve him out because of this? Bucky let out a growl of disapproval when he abruptly pulled her by her calves, forcing her hips to lift from the bed. She yelped in surprised but she saw the look on his face,  "You..." he rasped.

Bucky placed her legs on his shoulders, letting it daggle on his back as he palmed sides of her thighs. He then, proceed to leave trails of kiss on her inner thigh, avoiding the irritating wounds on her skin, "You deprived me of my sweet little pussy because you think this..." he flattened his tongue and nibble on her softness of her inner thighs, "...would turn me off? That these thick, soft thighs that I love so much would bother me?"

He planted a delicate kiss on the marks before, "Well, guess what bunny?. You're absolute wrong. In fact, it's quite the opposite." His lips travelled upwards until it found her core. Bucky's nose flared at the scent of her arousal, "And oh my sweet babydoll, I'm going to eat your pussy until understand that. Then, I'm gonna do it some more because I am fucking starving." He pressed a firm kiss on her clothed pussy, causing the cotton to soak the juices that leaks from her hole.

"Look at that. Does your needy pussy wants some pampering too, hmm?" She could see the lust dripping down his ocean blues; the same ones that were usually bright but now were now noticeably darker.

Bucky's finger traces the slit of her pussy, rubbing her over the fabric of her panties, making patch of wetness spread even more. "Yeah? Does she want me to kiss it better? Make her feel good?"

She moaned softly to his touch, "Please."

That was all it took for Bucky to rip her panties apart as if it was made out of paper.  "Fuck, there she is. My sweet pussy." He brought his fingers over, widened the folds of her pussy. Even with minimal lighting, it was enough to show him the glistening pink flesh of leaking cunt, twitching and needing his tongue to explore her insides.

He was hungry of course, just simply looking at her pussy had made his mouth water and impossible for him to resist the urge of putting his mouth on the pretty little thing. "Hmm,," a sharp cry escaped from her lips as he blew on her little twitching nub. There was this glint in his eyes as he watched her try to buck up, cunt helplessly clenching around nothing.

Before she could beg for him, Bucky's tongue dipped in between folds. Pointed at first, from the entrance of her pussy up to her clit. The tip of his tongue swirl around the aching nub. A breath caught in her throat when Bucky repeat the same move but this time he flattened his tongue.

And then he does it again and again.

Bucky, is generally the larger man compared to anyone. He is tall and beefy. But he is especially big when he's in between her legs, gently devouring her wet pussy. Slow and long licks were his favorite, it allowed him to savor the taste of her. Always so sweet and he couldn't get enough of it.

With every flick Bucky's tongue assulting to her swollen bud, she couldn’t help but pull on sheets behind her, needy moans leaves her lips every time he explored her, teases her. Her body cannot stay still when the pleasure was taking her higher. But it was not a problem for Bucky to control. Whenever she tries to close her thighs together, he stopped her. He didn't want to irritate her wounds or cause any pain, so he kept pushing her thigh open as he nuzzle his face into her pussy.

"Ahhh fuck ,, that feels so good, Bucky!" She moaned his name as the overwhelming feeling of his wet and soft tongue gliding and rubbing on her core, guiding her to heaven.

And the salacious squelching noises to fill the room as Bucky laps and sucks on her clit. She was so wet that he could just shove his fingers up in her hole but he didn't. He won't. After so many days not tasting her, he want to only use his mouth.

Though the man barely spoke during these times, he’d much rather keep his mouth occupied with drinking up her juices or suckling on her cute little clit. But when he does. Fuck. Does he spill the most unholy things.

Bucky momentarily detached himself from her and rasped, "Gonna cum, babydoll? Come on, give it to me. Let me drink and lick your cum after." His metal fingers quickly finds her clit, swiftly started to deliciously rub it; just the way he knew she liked it. It felt so good that her tongued lolled out her mouth out of pure pleasure.

"Yeah, bunny. You're gonna let me clean you up with tongue so nice, so that you can make the same mess again and again. Cum in mouth, babydoll. Cum for me"

He delved right back where is mouth belongs, licking her clit into his mouth just to wrap his lips around the pretty pink bundle of nerves sucking it harshly.  She whined needily her hips started to move on its own accord, searching for more friction of his tongue, “ahh ahh! hmmmm,, s-so fucking good! ahhh,, So close!” she was seeing stars in her hazy vision from how good and dirty she felt.

Bucky's eyes almost rolled back when let out a groan of satisaction against her spread out cunt; he can feel that she was going to cum and want her to do it with his mouth latched on her.

And cum she did, moments after she couldn’t help but squeal as her back arched from the bed, grinding herself on his tongue. Bucky growled at the streams of cream squirting out of her throbbing cunt right into his mouth, down to his throat.

So sweet and warm and addictive.

While her whole body was still shaking from the aftermath of the mindblowing orgasm, Bucky continued to lick and lap on her leaking pussy, slurping and suckling every bit of cream she had blessed him with.

Yet he was still hungry.

She mewled when Bucky started to suck on her clit again and when she looked over at him, he momentarily pulled away, "oh doll, did you forget? I'm not going to stop any time soon. So just lay there, look pretty for me and let me enjoy this sweet little pussy."

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Have you ever gotten your inner thighs chafed? Anyway, thanks for spending your time to reading my work! Leave your thoughts behind, I'd love to read them ♡

[mapis-putellas]

The little things

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x reader

Words: 1475

Warnings: None? I don’t think

Summary: Alexia had never been the short one in a relationship before, and it wasn’t until she meets you does she realise just what she’d been missing out on.

Alexia knew she was taller than the average female. Not by much, admittedly. Maybe about two or so inches. But it was still enough for her to look down more than she does up when making conversation with somebody. She doesn't mind it. To be honest she'd never really known any different.

It was the same when it came to dating. She was always the taller one. The one who always, somehow, took on all the things a man would typically do in a heterosexual relationship. Open car doors. Be the big spoon. Took charge in the bedroom. It was never forced upon her. She was never made to do it. It was just something she did instinctively because she was always the taller one.

But, then she met you. Sweet, tentative, endearing you. At the time, you'd been a barista, and Alexia had come into to order her usual coffee before training. Your first interaction had been no more than a few words and a smile, but for the rest of the day, for whatever reason, you were all she could think about.

Your eyes. Your lips. The freckles on your face and the way you'd looked up and down before growing visibly red. Whether that be because you knew who she was, or something else entirely, she didn’t quite know. Nor did she think she’d ever have the guts to ask.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she'd gone back to the coffee shop after training and asked for your number. Her English hadn't been the greatest, and she was pretty sure she'd said a few words wrong, but you hadn't hesitated to agree and hand over your phone. You'd texted for a few days before settling on a specific day when both if you; or more specifically, Alexia, were free, and you both had agreed on an ice cream date.

It was only on the day of your arranged the date did Alexia realise a significant detail she may have missed out on. She didn’t know how she hadn’t noticed. Or why she hadn’t noticed, but there you were, stood in front of your car, looking way too attractive for your own good. And you were taller than her.

Not overly so, but enough for her to be the one to look up when having a conversation. The car door was opened for her. The hand was placed on the small of her back, and Alexia hadn't quite know what to do with herself when you'd ended the date by pulling her into your chest and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She doesn’t remember the last time someone had done that.

Your relationship had only grown from there. Several dates were had. Gentle, tentative kisses were shared. You'd met her friends, she'd met yours, and you'd grown especially close with Mapi. In just two short months together, Alexia been roped in to going on at least three double dates with Mapi and Ingrid.

It was weird, at first. Not necessarily the double dates. But just how well you’d fit into her little circle seemingly without any issues. Everyone loved you, and Alexia was close to doing so as well.

It wasn’t long after that, that she’d found out that your love language was physical touch, and typically for midfielder, that wasn't really her thing. She got hot too quickly. Her limbs would grow numb and she'd always somehow end up with hair in her mouth.

But with you, however, she found that she really didn't quite mind. Why? Because she was almost always the one being held. There was no sweating. No hair in her mouth. No numb limbs. In fact -and if you told anyone this she'd deny it- being held was quickly becoming one of her favourite things. Especially when you'd run your fingers through her hair and rest your hand on the bare skin of her back beneath her shirt.

It's where she found herself most days after particularly rough training sessions. Such as today, which had been particularly brutal. Everything ached, and whilst she normally doesn’t mind feeling that way, today it was different.

You were rambling about anything and everything as you held her to your chest, hands absentmindedly braiding her hair before undoing it and starting again. She feels each and every breath you take, eyes blinking heavily as she fights away sleep.

"-and can believe she said that? Like, understand her point of view I guess, but I don't think it was really necessary-"

Her understanding of English wasn't exactly a hundred percent. She knows that, and you did too, meaning you were normally extra careful when speaking to her making sure you were annunciating all your words. She doesn’t mind you doing that. In fact, more often than not, she appreciates it, especially because your understanding of Spanish was…questionable. But there were times, such as these, where she was grateful when you let go off your inhibitions and rambled to your hearts content, even when she didn’t have a clue what you were saying.

"-I full told her that too, and she still didn’t believe. One day, her actions will- oh-"

She was just moments away from succumbing to dreamland when you sit up beneath her without any warning, her eyes widening as she's forced upright leaving her straddling your lap. She’s a little disoriented, prompting you to rest your hands on either of her sides to keep her steady, your eyes wide as you stare up at her.

"Did I tell you that Mapi wants another double date? This Tuesday-"

She groans and falls against your shoulder. Mapi and her big mouth.

*

"I reach it myself, amor. I do not need help." Alexia grins as she watches you make your way over, bending down slightly and looping your arms beneath her behind. Her hands cup your cheeks, and you grin against her palms as you stand upright and bring her with you. You support her weight easily, something her previous partners were never able to do.

You bounce her up slightly, feeling the way her feet hook together just below your butt, "I know," you press a fond kiss to her chest. She was wearing a white, cropped tank top today, no bra, and you’ve lost count of just how many times you’d been caught staring. "But I like holding you. Humour me, okay?"

Alexia tilts her head to the side, the frown of confusion on her face so utterly adorable you couldn't help but kiss her again. Her cheeks flush visibly at the action, prompting you to do it again, and again, and again, until she gently stops you by cupping your face. "Qué? Humour...you?" She questions, the pads of her thumbs trailing over soft skin.

"Mhh," you nod, leaning into her touch. "It means indulge me. Let me help you, anyway." You explain, and Alexia hums in understanding as she releases your face.

"Bueno. You help." She accepts, allowing you to step close enough to the cabinet so she could now, way easier than before, reach for the cup she'd intended to grab moments prior. Once it was in her hands, you don't put her down like she expects. Instead, you release her with one hand, close the cupboard door before making your way over to the counter and setting her down on top it. 

You step between her parted legs, wrapping your arms around her toned waist as hers settle around your shoulders. In this position, both of you now more or less the same height, your chest becoming flush against Alexia's as her legs hook tightly around your waist. Your hands slip beneath her white tank top to rest against bare, tanned skin, fingertips trailing over the multitude of tattoos you knew were there.

She shudders at the feeling, and you couldn't help but smile as you tighten your arms around her and press your lips against the warm skin of her neck.

"Tu eres todo para mi."

Slowly but surely, you were learning Spanish, but it was entirely more difficult than you were anticipating. Still, you were able to understand the basics. Simple phrases much like much like the one she'd just spoken. You wrack your brain to figure out the appropriate response.

"S-siento lo mismo."

By the huff of amusement that escapes Alexia's lips, it was apparent that your diction could use a lot a work.

"Cariño..." she muses softly, cupping your your cheeks and pressing her lips against your forehead. It was an action she was never normally able to due not being able to reach, so she takes advantage of it and repeats the action several more times, earning herself an adorable flush.

"My girl." You smile, leaning into the affection. You didn't think you had ever adored anyone more.

**

Tags:

@simp4panos @goldenempyrean @girlgenius1111

[matthewfuckinggraygubler]

Arrival || Spencer Reid +18

· Pairing: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader · Category: Smut · Warning: Sex/Brutal sex · Words: 1019 · Summary : Coming home from days on a case, Spencer is desperate to be with you. He finds you sleeping and is driven to satisfy his needs.

· Spanish on Wattpad. English isn't my first language, be kind! · Masterlist

It was 3 A.M. in Quantico, and you were asleep, having gone ten days and fifteen hours without seeing your boyfriend. This was pretty normal, given that his job required him to travel to solve cases, and if you were lucky, it was only for a few days.

But lately, enduring those occasional separations had become harder. You both relied on text messages, late-night chats, video calls… but nothing compared to having each other face to face.

Tonight, he arrived on a red-eye flight, and you had tried to stay awake, but sleep overtook you before you could. Spencer tried not to make any noise when he came in. He left his suitcase in the living room, took off his shoes, pants, tie, shirt, and socks, leaving everything neatly folded on the table. He was pretty tired, but he was dying to see you. Still, he wasn’t going to wake you up just to satisfy his own selfishness, not at 3 A.M., although for a moment, he reconsidered…

He opened the door slowly so as not to disturb you. The window was open, letting in a breeze and just enough light to see your figure. When his eyes adjusted to the surroundings, something crossed his mind, and his thoughts became completely clouded. You were lying face down, wearing only a tank top and panties, and that drove him crazy, with his body's reaction being more than evident.

Without even realizing it, he was beside you, caressing your right thigh and burying his head in your neck. He couldn’t think logically; desire had taken over every neuron, and the hand that had been caressing you was now pulling down your panties as best as he could, driven by desperation as his breathing grew more ragged. It only took lowering your underwear to mid-thigh for him to lower his own and begin to satisfy his primal need in a completely rough manner. “Fu..ck..” he groaned in a whisper.

He was practically on top of you, gripping your thigh to move more easily, and of course, that woke you up. You couldn’t do more than scream; it was painful at first. “Ah! Sh-shit!”

You felt it before you could even process it. The pain mingled with surprise and the disorientation of being ripped from sleep so abruptly. You turned your head, trying to get your bearings, but the first thing you encountered was the weight of Spencer on top of you, his erratic breathing by your ear, his hands gripping your thigh and hip, holding you down with an almost primal need.

“Spencer…” you managed to murmur, your voice hoarse, broken between pain and confusion. This wasn’t like him, it wasn’t his way. He was always careful, tender, attentive to every one of your desires. This was different, raw, wild, as if the absence and longing had stripped him of all reason, of all control.

But you couldn’t deny that, despite the initial pain, your body was beginning to respond to his touch. The brush of his skin against yours, the heat of his body, the way his hips moved instinctively, seeking satisfaction in you, awakened something deep and equally primal within you.

“Spencer,” you repeated, this time more forcefully, trying to capture his attention, to bring him back to you, to reality. He paused for a moment, as if suddenly coming to his senses, and his breathing became even more irregular. You felt him tense, and for a second, you thought he might pull away, that he might stop and let you process what was happening.

But instead of that, Spencer leaned in closer, whispering your name against your skin, his voice a mix of desperation and need. “I’m sorry… I need you… so much,” he murmured, his voice a shaky whisper.

With that murmur, you felt a change in him, in the way he touched you. His grip became less rough, more firm but no less passionate. His movements, though still urgent, began to seek your pleasure too, not just his own. The initial pain was replaced by a deeper sensation, a connection between the two of you that went beyond words.

Somehow, this impulsive moment, so charged with pent-up emotions from the days apart, turned into something more intimate, something shared. Spencer, even in his state of uncontrollable desire, started to care about you, seeking your reaction, listening to your sighs and the small sounds escaping your lips.

His free hand began to explore your body, reacquainting itself with every curve, every sensitive spot he knew would make you tremble. He leaned into you, pressing soft, wet kisses along your neck, your shoulder, as if trying to make up for the tenderness that had been missing in the urgent beginning.

Despite the intensity of the moment, you started to relax under his touch, letting yourself be carried away by the sensations, by the warmth of his body, by the way he was trying to make sure you were okay, that you were with him in this.

You felt your breathing synchronize with his, your body responding to his in such a natural, instinctive way. What had started with pain and confusion was slowly transforming into something deep, a physical expression of how much you had missed each other, of how much you needed this contact, this connection.

And when the two of you finally reached that climax, it wasn’t just a physical relief but an emotional release of all the tension that had built up, of all the distance and longing that had separated you during those days.

Spencer collapsed beside you, still breathing heavily, and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. You didn’t need words in that moment. You simply curled up against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart, feeling his breathing begin to calm along with yours.

That night, the exhaustion and passion combined, allowing you both to fall asleep together, wrapped in each other’s warmth, no matter what the morning might bring.

· Requests via DM ·

[bakuhatsufallinlove]

424

All right, listen. It’s pretty damn funny that two weeks ago I posted all like, “oh I don’t really comment chapter-by-chapter, I’m waiting to see what happens next,” but this one broke me.

This chapter was everything I wanted for bkdk, and it’s so much more tender than I ever dreamed it could be.

This post is not going to be like most of my posts, because I am a flood of emotion. If you’re wanting some detailed, well-researched analysis of this scene, that ain’t coming for a while.

I don’t have some kind of comparative linguistics to show you. I just have my visceral reactions as someone who speaks Japanese and has absorbed Japanese media for many years. I have shared my heart with others in Japanese, I’ve sputtered out words between sobs and felt the many kinds of comfort different people try to offer. I have comforted others who let themselves be vulnerable with me.

In all these moments, just as in English, I wondered if my words and feelings reached them. Each time, I felt the warmth of connection when they looked at me, and I decided that they knew I did my best. They accepted me, even if it wasn’t perfect.

I’m gonna tell you the truth, and I wouldn’t normally say this so directly, but it matters to me: the fan translation for this specific scene is not good. The tone is wildly off in some ways and it outright omits a number of very important words.

The official translation gets so much of it right.

But that’s not really what I want to talk about right now. I want to talk about how people are reading this scene.

I have seen a ton of, frankly, oblivious interpretations of Izuku’s side of things.

Listen to me. Izuku is not making fun of Katsuki for crying, he is not telling Katsuki that crying isn’t like him, that isn’t in the text at all. He is not rejecting Katsuki’s feelings, or belittling them, or ignoring them, or any of that.

Izuku has seen Katsuki cry in-canon a number of times, but every time it was over his own personal failures, and the frustration, anger, guilt, and grief associated with them. We see it in the aftermath of Deku vs. Kacchan 1. We see it during Deku vs. Kacchan 2.

Izuku is shocked to see Kacchan cry because this is the first time he has cried for Izuku.

When Katsuki apologized in 322, he looked Izuku in the eye and told him his feelings with conviction and poise. He was gentle and vulnerable, but strong, because he was asking Izuku to trust them and rely on them. To come back with them and believe in them, like they believe in Izuku. He bowed his head to show his remorse. He caught Izuku when he fell, and he accepted Izuku’s own apology.

He embodied dignity, sincerity, and strength of character. He was a true hero.

This?

This is the raw, honest sorrow of a young boy. It is a tender, earnest, unguarded display of how much Izuku means to him.

These are the tears you shed for someone you cherish. These are tears for when you think you are losing something you can’t live without. Because Katsuki isn’t just crying for the loss of Izuku’s dream—it’s their dream, the future they dreamt up together as kids.

Izuku is almost pathologically incapable of understanding how other people see him and feel about him, but this is unmistakable. He is stunned because there is no other explanation.

There is unmitigated heartache and longing at the core of Katsuki saying, “I just thought somehow we would be together like this, competing and chasing after each other, forever.”

And Izuku is reeling, but so, so touched, and filled with fondness. Look at how his shock shifts to this overwhelmed, affectionate smile.

He’s right—this isn’t the usual Katsuki, and that is precisely why it means so much. We as the audience have been privy to Katsuki’s feelings, but until now Izuku himself has never really grasped the depth of them. This is all the tenderness Katsuki has kept locked up inside, and he is letting Izuku see it for the first time.

To see Kacchan—strong, fierce, and absolutely unstoppable—shed these innocent, helpless tears for him and tell him through sobs that he wanted things to stay this way forever, I can’t blame him for being blown away.

I think Izuku expected Katsuki to be shocked and a little sad that he gave up OFA, both for Izuku’s sake and because it is the legacy of their hero. Before Katsuki even starts crying, Izuku has this small smile on his face, like he was ready to reassure him that he had made peace with his own choice.

But he clearly didn’t expect for Katsuki to weep openly in front of him about it or to confess to wanting him by his side. Izuku had so enjoyed just being allowed near Katsuki, allowed in his life at all—to think that Katsuki could want the same and want it this much, to the point that he worries that things would change, that Izuku would abandon him or deny him? How could that ever be?

In what world could Izuku ever stop chasing Kacchan?

Izuku is a bit of an idiot. He has always thought that Katsuki understood how much he cared for and admired him—that’s why he is so shocked during DvK2 to hear that Katsuki thought he looked down on him for years. Izuku thought Katsuki understood his feelings and simply rejected them.

The way he loves Kacchan is natural and unquestionable. Even now, he can’t understand how Katsuki doesn’t know. It’s baffling to him.

But he still accepts Katsuki’s vulnerability and responds to the intimacy.

This is such an affectionate, loving thing to say. Izuku is being so sweet. I cannot convey to you strongly enough how Izuku telling Katsuki, “C’mon, stop it, this isn’t like you!” reaffirms their closeness.

If Izuku had not said this line and instead skipped straight to this nervous, awkward little attempt at comfort here:

It would have read as so much more distant.

With his tears and his confession, Katsuki pleads with Izuku to not leave him. To be with him always.

And in response, Izuku unabashedly stakes his claim on their bond by being bold enough to affectionately scold him and even assert authority on what kind of person Katsuki is. Remember these?

Chapters 202 and 319

This is such a staple in Japanese media for showing close bonds. Your loved ones know you. They tease you. They scold you. They have that right. You gave it to them.

The people you love cheer you up by reminding you that you’re strong and brave and that even if things feel hopeless and like you can’t go on, that they know you can. Everything will be okay, and they know so because they’ll be right there with you. Of course they’ll be there.

Symbolically, throughout the series, Izuku’s response to Katsuki trying to be closer to him has always been: “Of course.”

He has always accepted Katsuki as much as he is able to, as much as he had awareness for. He is wildly lacking in self-awareness, so it’s certainly not perfect, but by god does he try.

What Izuku is really saying is a mixture of “Really? You want that, too?” and “Don’t be silly!”

One part is him being shocked and touched; the other is him being absolutely certain of his own heart, and showing it as best he can.

He does get flustered and self-conscious, though—because it’s overwhelming to see Kacchan this way, and this is kind of new territory for them. So he switches tactics to reassure Kacchan about how things are now, and make sure he doesn’t feel embarrassed about this outburst. He still has the embers, so it’s okay for now. And their bodies are weak, so of course their heads will be in a bad place too, it’s easy to get low spirits. Of course Katsuki would be feeling vulnerable. It’s normal.

He gives Katsuki so many things here. He gives him as much as he can.

Izuku doesn’t know how long he’ll have the embers for and, frankly, he doesn’t have any guarantee that he will be able to satisfy this longing of Katsuki’s after he loses them. This, too, is a staple of promises in Japanese media: “I don’t know if I can satisfy you, but I want to try. I hope you can accept me.”

Things will be different—the future is always uncertain, now more than ever for their world. But what will never change is what they feel in their hearts.

After this scene, I honestly don’t care if we get something other people see as “bkdk canon.”

What Katsuki says is as good as a confession to me. What Izuku says in return is genuine and pure. This is a messy pair of teenage boys figuring out how to reach each other with words, when they have always been so damn bad at it. This is the two of them both reaching a new point of intimacy and reaffirming everything that came before.

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 You Says.

Post prison Reid x Reporter!reader

Read part one here!

Summary: After a rough night and some misunderstandings, Spencer needs to do everything he can to make things right with you and get his relationship back on track. The problem is, things aren't so easy for you, and he's willing to do anything you ask, even take care of you when no one else will.

Words: 3,1k.

TW: mentions of crime and trauma. angst+comfort. the reader gets sick (nothing serious, just a normal cold). english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Ok, I didn't think of doing a second part before, but reading my own work made me so sad😭 the cat deserves happy parents (we are the cat) but I warn you that I do not believe in magic apologies.

As an interesting side note, both parts of this story are named after children's games. In this case, it's for "Simon Says," which I thought was pretty cool because in this part, Spencer literally does whatever the reader wants.

I also want to thank you for the support you gave to the first part and for the 300 followers💝 I could not say it before but it makes me very happy.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

Spencer had been losing his mind since the last time he saw you in person, and it was all his fault. From the moment the door to his apartment closed behind you and the oven beeped, he began to feel the broken pieces of his heart that you had once held together unravel and shatter even more. He hated himself for letting his insecurities get in the way of the one good thing he had managed to have over the past few years, and for pushing you away when you didn't want to. You had been his exception among all the bad things that had happened in his life for as long as he could remember, the only one that didn't seem to want to be temporary and left him when he least expected it. And he himself had forced you out of his life, even when you didn't want to, begging him with tear-filled eyes for a little remorse that he didn't give you.

Just a few hours after the incident, he tried to go to work as if nothing had happened to clean up the mess the leak had made and put the killer in jail. He brought Penelope the promised cookies and your computer for her to examine because it felt right at the time. Part of him needed her to find real proof of your betrayal so he could stop feeling bad about making you cry and saying such ugly things to you.

Then he found out that you were telling the truth and that your computer contained nothing but photos of the two of you, all the articles he had ever written or been mentioned in your searches, and a few writings in which you poured out all your love for him in the cheesiest and most poetic way possible. You loved him, you really did, and there was no evidence to the contrary, because even Garcia could later assure him that the information had come anonymously and had been bought for five hundred dollars. But it was too late, because he had given you a conviction without even knowing it.

That's when he started to fixate on making amends for what he'd done. Every time you left work, bouquets of your favorite flowers with notes asking for forgiveness and wishing you a good night began to appear in your car. He also made a point of stopping by to talk to you and repeat how sorry he was. You knew this would happen when he realized his mistake. You had told him before you left, and that's why you refused to see him. It was good that the security guards at your workplace didn't let him in, even with his FBI credentials. The tricky part was your building because the doorman already knew him and let him in normally thanks to the excuses Spencer made up, even though you said a thousand times that he shouldn't have.

And that was happening again, for the fifth or sixth time in the last few days.

“Please, just let me talk to you and tell you how sorry I am. Listen to me for a moment.” You could hear Reid's voice from the other side of the door.

You didn't say anything. You just sat with your back against the door and one hand on your heart, as if you were trying to hold it. It didn't even cross your mind that he was in the same situation.

“Just a few minutes, please."

Once more, you remained silent.

Silence was the worst answer someone could give. You knew it, and it hurt to have to do it with him. But you had no choice because you knew that by looking into his eyes for just a few seconds, all the bad things would dissipate and maybe you would even forgive him without thinking just because of the love you had for him. You didn't like being this vulnerable and having so many feelings for someone who didn't trust you.

Lately, you've been spending every waking moment wondering what you could have done to make him believe that you were really capable of betraying him in such a cruel and selfish way. You were the one who woke up in the middle of the night to try to comfort him every time he had a nightmare or couldn't sleep. You drove to his apartment no matter what time it was to make sure he was okay. You lost your breath repeating that he was safe with you. You drank many cups of coffee the next day so you wouldn't fall asleep on the job every time the situation repeated itself. That's why you started sleeping in his apartment, wrapped in his arms because he said it made him happy to wake up and see you. And even with all that, Spencer was able to believe that you didn't love him.

You were running your hands through your hair and sighing, trying to block out all the thoughts running through your head, when you heard his phone ring. You could tell it was important by the way he spoke and changed his tone of voice, so you got up from the floor at the same time he did to put your ear to the door.

“I really have to go now, but could you open up a little bit so I can take a quick look at you?” He asked in a pleading tone after hanging up the call. “Please, I know you can hear me. I can see the shadow of your feet under the door.”

You really thought he didn't know you were there, feeling like a fool for listening to every word he said.

“If you want to see me, turn on the TV.” Your voice finally reached Spencer, and it gave him a glimmer of hope. It was the first time you had spoken to him since that night, and even though there was a door between the two of you, you were talking to him.

“It's not enough.”

“And it's not my problem.”

That was more hurtful than your silence.

“I know, it's mine.” He replied after a couple of seconds, trying to process everything. “And I will do everything I can to fix it...I have to go now, but take care of yourself. The nights have been getting colder lately, so wrap up warm.”

You knew it was a bit silly to think of that now, but his attention to detail was impressive. Since you did the evening news, you used to get off work very late, and the change from air conditioning to the city cold was quite a lot. Spencer had cited scientific studies to you many times to make you aware and know what kind of clothing materials to use to avoid a cold. You missed that a lot.

If he had the same attitude as the night of the conflict, it would be easier. You could hate him and stop loving him so strongly.

“I love you, William misses you and so do I.”

You frowned because you didn't know anyone by that name.

“William?”

“Our cat.” He answered simply. “When we talked about how we would name him, you said that a lot of people name their pets after their favorite characters. You love the movie ‘Notting Hill’ and whenever we watch it, you always say you like Hugh Grant's character named William. It also means strong-willed warrior. I just thought you would like it.”

You didn't say anything at the time because you had to cover your hand with your mouth to keep from doing so, but you liked it and you liked it too much. Once again, he focused on the details.

“You can change it if you want because I don't know if he likes it, but what I do know is that he misses you. He lies on your blanket and starts meowing, and he also looks at the door. I certainly think that every time I come home he expects it to be you.” He kept talking as he received no response from you. “It sounds like I'm talking about myself. And it's true because it happens to me the same way.”

When he paused, a tear escaped and fell down your cheek. It wasn't fair for him to say those things now.

“If you want to see him and me not being there, you can send me a message...but I'd really like to be.” He paused again, as if searching for the perfect words.

What did it cost him to have searched for the perfect words the night he distrusted you?

“I must go, I love you.”

The last thing you heard before he left was Spencer's footsteps heading towards the elevator.

Just two weeks later, you realized that maybe you should have listened to Spencer when he said the nights were getting too cold. If you had, now you probably wouldn't be lying on your bed with an unbearable flu and no one there to bring you soup or a cold washcloth for your forehead because your mother was taking too long to get to city.

When you were younger, you thought it was a great idea to get as far away from your hometown as possible. Now, however, you realize that you need a familiar face to take care of you because you can't do it alone all the time.

You felt a sense of relief when you heard the door to your apartment open.

“Mom? I'm really hungry and the soup is all gone.” You spoke in a tired tone as you heard footsteps approaching. But at that moment, you watched as the cat you shared with Reid jumped onto the bed and started purring at you.

You thought you were hallucinating from the fever until you saw Spencer walking into your room with a couple of bags.

“I know you were expecting your mother, but we brought you soup and medicine.” He said, sitting up in bed to look closely at you and put a hand on your forehead. “You're burning up.”

“What are you doing here?” You asked, trying to pull away from his touch.

“Your mother called me because she couldn't find a flight today and was very worried. She asked me to take care of you.”

Of course she did, because she adored him and didn't know that things were bad between you two.

“I don't need you to take care of me.” You barely settled into bed and petted the cat. “Go to work, make sure no one leaks information.”

Oh, that was a low blow for him.

“I asked for a few days off because you have a high fever and someone needs to take care of you.”

“You don't have to...”

“I want to.” He said, interrupting you and putting a cold cloth on your forehead.

“Just because you're looking out for me doesn't mean I'm going to forget everything and forgive you.” You clarified right away, trying not to lose focus because of the relief you felt thanks to the cold compress.

“I know, and I don't expect you to. Just let me take care of you now, forget you hate me until you get better. I won't take advantage of this, I swear.” He looked at you with a serious gaze, as if he were swearing an oath. “Please.”

God, not puppy dog eyes now.

You used to love it when he looked at you with those sparkling eyes. Now, though, you felt manipulated by it.

“Fine, give me the soup.” You finally agreed, knowing you didn't have much of a choice. “Just a warning, please don't answer any calls near me. I can listen in and use the information to hire a nurse.”

He ignored the comment and didn't bring it up to make you uncomfortable. He sat on the edge of the bed, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His touch was light, and his eyes searched yours as he spoke.

“Is there anything else besides soup I can bring you? More tissues, or maybe some medicine?” He asked in a soft, soothing voice.

You shook your head, still a bit dazed by the situation and your stomach rumbling. You watched as Spencer disappeared into the kitchen, and you could hear his footsteps echoing throughout the house, followed by the clatter of pots and pans and the sound of the stove being turned on. You could only lie back on your bed, feeling a wave of tiredness wash over you.

A few minutes later, he came back with a bowl of chicken noodle soup and sat down next to you on the bed, being careful not to spill anything.

“Are you planning to feed me soup?” You asked, with a hint of irony in your voice, as you watched me hold the spoon and watch you.

“If you wish, I'll be happy to.” He replied simply and brought the spoon gently to your mouth.

“I'm not a baby.”

Especially not his baby.

“You hate me, I know. But I really want to take care of you, and I won't leave until at least your mother arrives.” He paused for a second, as if to catch his breath. “If you don't want me around, that's okay, I'll just sit in the corner of the room or in the living room in silence. It hurts, but I'll take whatever you want.”

You remained silent for several seconds, dedicating yourself to stroking the cat to avoid Spencer's gaze.

“I don't hate you.” Was the only thing you could say at the time.

Something inside you was expecting a more exaggerated reaction for letting your guard down a bit, or maybe you were just too feverish. The thing was, he had only given you a small, almost non-existent smile.

“I know.” He finally spoke and gently adjusted the cold compress on your forehead. “And that's why I hate myself.”

At that moment, while you were trying to make sense of how things had changed so much in just a week, he was watching you.

Spencer was waiting for you to explode, to tell him how sorry you were for getting involved with him and his complicated world, that it was all one big mistake that you would regret forever. He was expecting disaster, pain, tears, and a lot of chaos.

But you didn't give him any of that.

Just a sweet nothing.

He could tell at that moment that even though you were in a feverish state and had many reasons to be cruel, you would not be. He realized that you would never yell at him or do anything to hurt him, that the most painful thing you could give him was your silence. And it was then that he confirmed that you loved him the way he thought he did not deserve to be loved: honestly and genuinely.

“Why?” You whispered after a few minutes of silence. “Why are you with me if you don't trust me?”

“I trust you.” He looked you straight in the eye as he spoke, trying to show that he was being completely sincere. “I just don't trust myself.”

You frowned and let out a groan from the discomfort in your forehead. You weren't sure if you were hallucinating because of the cold or if Spencer was really shivering.

“I don't think I'm good enough for you, or deserve you, or that you love me because you want to.” He finally admitted, his voice slightly shaky. He seemed to be in a worse state than you. “It's silly because you've never given me a reason to distrust you.”

“I know you thought I was going to leave. But I didn't want to leave until you asked me to.” You were close to crying, so you pretended to sneeze to hide your watery eyes. You didn't want to show how vulnerable you were. “It was easier to distrust me and blame me like I was just another bad person you catch.”

“Yes, but...” He replied, trying to answer your question.

“Don't talk. It's my turn.”

He nodded after a few seconds, watching you with concern. “Just be careful, you're still sick.”

You already knew how sick you were and how deplorable you probably looked, but you wanted to say it all and stop feeling a lump in your throat.

“You say you trust me, but you really don't, and I've been trying to understand you for almost a year, Spencer. It's been eleven months of trying not to invade your space, avoiding topics that make you tense or your eyes glaze over.” You had to stop to catch your breath and drink some water with his help. “And you think I don't understand you or really know you, but I do. I know how all your dishes are arranged, I know how you like to fold clothes and eat toast, I know that chess reminds you of someone because your eyes get watery every time we see a board, I know about the book signed by Maeve that you hide in your closet and about which you tense up every time I'm near, I know about your nightmares about prison that you don't like to talk about, and about your mother's favorite colors that change every day. I know so much about you, and yet you think I know nothing.”

Once more, there was a long, quiet pause.

“I'm so sorry.” He held your hands as he repeated the same thing, this time with a truly sincere tone. The whole room was still tense as his knees touched the floor, and the apology he gave you seemed like a plea. “I'm really sorry. I know you don't want apologies, you want trust, and I'm going to show you that.”

You didn't say anything as he sat down next to you on the bed.

“I trust you, that's why I always tell you about my cases. And I will tell you about all my past, if you want, because for me you are my present and my future...of course, only if you still want to.”

The eyes of both of you were fixed on the cat you shared, who was purring and lying very comfortably in the middle of the bed. It was nice to know that at least one of the three of you was happy.

“Tell me.”

And just as you asked, he told you everything because he wanted to show you that he trusted you.

This time he really trusted.

[barcaatthemoon]

turned on || alexia putellas x reader ||

a night out forces you and alexia to finally do something about your obvious attraction to one another.

alexia was awkward. you had known that long before you'd ever met the woman. the two of you were respective superstars for your countries, both the faces of your women's leagues. the news of the famed (y/n) (y/l/n) going from bayern to barcelona had shaken up the european football world. however, the events that would follow would do so once again, perhaps to a bigger magnitude.

you had been at bayern since their youth academy. there had never been another club for you, not even for a loan. however, when your contract with bayern ended, you had decided to look elsewhere. you loved the team, and the things that everybody was doing together, but you wanted a change.

barcelona had come knocking on your door the loudest. they were willing to shell out a lot of money, nearly three times as much as your old club. it wasn't just about the money, but you had to admit that it had a nice ring to it. there were things that you could do with this money that you felt would benefit your community much more than you just scoring a few goals during your games.

your first few months in spain had been difficult. you weren't exactly conversational in spanish, nor were you all that great with english. your teammates were patient with you, especially frido, ingrid, and caro. they were like your lifelines, none of them ever leaving you completely alone at training. unfortunately for you, they were all around enough to notice the way that you and alexia stared at each other.

"hmm, that's a very interesting shirt choice. it looks oddly familiar," frido teased as she grabbed the bottom hem of your shirt. you didn't give her little comment the decency of a response. yes, you had picked this outfit out because the last couple of times that you had worn it, alexia hadn't been able to take her eyes off of you.

"i think that our captain will like it. although, i'm not sure she'll appreciate the attention you'll get from it," ingrid said. you blushed a little as you turned away from them to finish getting ready. you had done your makeup a little bit edgier than normal. alexia seemed to like the darker look on you, at least that was what mapi had told you.

you checked over your outfit one more time before you followed your friends out of ingrid's room. mapi was flexing in the mirror, something that had both you and ingrid laughing at her. mapi ignored the two of you and continued, much to aitana's annoyace.

"let's go." frido wrangled everybody into her car, letting you have the passenger's seat. you were still getting used to things like the famous spanish affection and lack of personal space. befriending mapi through ingrid was a big help, but you were still even more awkward than caro in most situations.

at the club, you were immediately whisked away to the bar with pina, cata, and patri. they fed you shot after shot, which you enjoyed until alexia, irene, marta, and sandra pulled your group back from the bar. irene had been the one to grab you, but you didn't let that last for long. with some difficulty, you put yourself in alexia's grasp, allowing for pina to scurry off towards the dance floor.

"hi, oh wait, hola!" your accent was normally bad, but tonight, it was atrocious. alexia cracked a small smile at your accent. you returned it tenfold, absolutely beaming at her. "you are so beautiful. do you like my outfit? i wore it just for you."

"o-oh?" alexia questioned. her voice had cracked, something that you didn't miss, but chose to ignore. "you look very nice, but you shouldn't dress for other people. dress for you, i'd like any outfit you wore."

"that's not the point. i want you to take me home. i need to impress if you're gonna do that." you were slurring your words pretty badly, and alexia wondered how long you had been feeling like that. she wasn't going to get her answer though, not when you were whisked off towards the dance floor.

alexia didn't see you for nearly the entire night after that. you had been moving around enough to sober up quite a bit. alexia noticed that you didn't sway on your feet when you came over to where she was sitting. however, there was still just enough liquid courage for you to let alexia know that you wanted to dance with her.

"i think we should dance. you've been sitting here all night. even irene got up at least once." if it had been anybody else, alexia never would have even really considered moving. however, it was you, and unbeknownst to you, alexia had developed quite the soft spot for you.

at first, she told herself that she wanted to take care of you because you were younger than her and in a new country. however, much to alexia's annoyance, mapi pointed out several times that alexia's gazes towards you were never friendly. alexia thought that she was good at masking her feelings, but mapi was one of the few people in the world who could see right through her. it took a while, but alexia had finally admitted to herself, and an eerily excited mapi, her feelings for you.

"i'm not much of a dancer," alexia warned you. she had never been a good dancer, especially not sober. you weren't a professional or anything, but you were fairly decent in the scheme of things.

"it's fine, i'll take the lead." your words didn't exactly make alexia feel much better, but once the two of you were on the dance floor, she didn't do much thinking. you were just sober enough to know that this wasn't something that alexia normally would have agreed to so easily. you'd been around the team long enough to know that alexia rarely ever left the booth or table whenever the team went out.

"a-are you sure that this is okay?" alexia asked as you placed her hands on your waist. normally whenever you'd dance with the other girls, their hands were glued to your hips. it was a far less intimate hold, but your body craved a bit of intimacy, specifically from alexia.

"shh, don't think about it. just feel the music and move with me," you told her. it was fine for the first couple of songs, but then things slowed down dramatically. alexia's hands stayed right where you had placed them, but you weren't prepared to feel the press of her body against yours.

for someone who wasn't spanish, you were teased a lot for being touchy. it was always in good jest, and because of that, you often forgot how handsy your teammates could get. alexia was no exception, despite being the most reserved with her affections. you realized in that moment that alexia wasn't unaffectionate at all, she was just picky. tonight, it seemed that she had picked you.

"can i have one more dance?" alexia asked as she rested her chin against your shoulder. her face was partially buried in the side of your neck. alexia's breath tickled against your skin, something she couldn't have known would have you turning red in the face like it was. "please, i'm having fun with you. i don't want it to end just yet."

"i think i can handle one more." it was a total lie, but you didn't know it yet. the next song was more upbeat than the last, but alexia didn't move any further away from her. you could feel her hips press against your ass with each movement that she made. alexia was dancing with you like before, only closer now. it was reminscent of something that you hadn't experienced in quite some time.

alexia kept her hands around you even after the song had ended. the two of you made your way towards the booth, where several of your teammates were not sitting as well. alexia sat down first, and without hesitation, pulled you into her lap. they all quieted down at the sight of you, but neither you nor alexia missed the looks on their faces.

"problem?" alexia asked. her arm was snaked protectively around your waist, and as patri moved in closer, alexia's arm tightened. she had already been holding you tightly, but the addition of force managed to pull a squeak from you that unfortunately did not go unheard by anybody.

"the free show was nice, even if this isn't that kind of club," patri teased as she tapped on the tip of your nose. you swatted her hand away as you cursed at her in german. frido and ingrid's faces went red at your words, but they didn't let patri in on what you had said.

"what is that supposed to mean?" alexia asked.

"are you so oblivious that you don't see how turned on (y/n) is with her on your lap, capi? i mean, look at her. it's a shock that she's not squirming," cata pointed out. you grumbled as you tried to hide your hands. alexia looked at you questioningly, and when you refused to meet her gaze, she realized that there was a lot of truth to their words.

"you, uh… you… i'm sorry. i didn't mean to make you… i mean…" alexia stumbled through her words unlike anything you had ever seen before. the girls at the table laughed at her, which made a bit of anger flare up inside of you.

"hey, it's okay. you didn't know," you said sweetly. alexia bit her lip as you turned in her lap and cupped her cheeks. "i asked you to dance with me. besides this isn't anything that won't pass eventually."

"aren't you embarrassed?" alexia asked. she looked really guilty, and you wanted to kiss the pout off of her lip.

"it's fine, ale. if you really feel bad, you can buy me breakfast or something tomorrow morning," you told her. alexia looked confused for a moment before the cheering and hollering of your teammates clued her in. with that, she quickly stood up and walked you out of the club and away from them. you both knew alexia wouldn't just sleep with you, but you were surprised when she let you come over and stay the night with her anyway.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

MAFIA!ANAKIN HEADCANONS

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read for your own safety and comfort. Kinda violence, ani is a criminal, italian phrases/words (i do learn this language but if there's any mistake, im so sorry), mentions of drugs and gambling, ani with troublematic childhood, ITS VERY LONG!!

Mafia!Anakin who didn't know happiness until he met you. Yes, he had money, he had luxurious life but when you appeared in his life, you filled an empty hole in his heart

Mafia!Anakin who spoils you like crazy. You want something, you'll get it the same day, unless your behavior is out of place

Mafia!Anakin who keeps you away from most of his business for your own safety. He'd not forgive himself if something would happen to you because of him/his job

Mafia!Anakin who taught you how to use a gun so you could protect yourself when he's not around;

"No, again," his voice cut through your thoughts, firm and authoritative. Normally, Anakin was carefree in your presence, but teaching you how to use a gun was a different matter – he took it very seriously.

"What's wrong now?" you retorted, rolling your eyes in annoyance. You had been doing this for hours, with nothing but mistakes and failures, and your patience was wearing thin.

"Your grip...again," he said firmly, stepping closer behind you. He reached out to adjust your grip, his hands guiding yours. "You need a firmer grip, angel."

"I already have a firm grip," you retorted stubbornly.

He couldn't help but let out a small chuckle "Not as firm as it should be," he gently corrected "it's not a puppy you're holding in your hand, dolcezza." His hand wrapped around yours, adjusting your fingers and gripping them even tighter, forcing you to hold the gun properly. "This is what a firm grip looks like."

He pulled away, fixing his gaze on you again, searching for any mistakes. You tried your best to keep still, clutching the damn thing in your shaking hands. Generally, you didn't like such objects, but with Anakin, it was slightly easier. You knew he was doing this out of concern for your well-being.

"Your feet are too close together." He observed, moving in closer. "Having such a small base gives you less balance, which you don't want. You need a steady position in situations like these, angel. Otherwise, things can go very wrong."

He gently pushed his knee between your legs, widening your stance. You involuntarily stirred a little at his action, but he continued "You need to be sturdy, firm. But at the same time, flexible"

"You don't stand like that when you use a gun," you pointed out

he chuckled again, his breath warm against the back of your neck. "That's because I've been holding one ever since I was a kid, angel. You're just learning, sweetheart. You need to learn the proper stance first. We'll get to my type of stance when you have the basics nailed down."

He gently adjusted your stance, his hands steady on your hips. "Keep your feet hip-width apart, and relax your shoulders. It's all about balance and control."

Mafia!Anakin who's obviously possessive over his treasure, his pretty angel. If any man dared to look at you in a way that made you uncomfortable or made anakin question the man's behavior, anakin would make sure he would never look at you again

Mafia!Anakin who takes you to casinos which are filled with rich guys and lavishly dressed women. The place where crimes begin. He'd most of the time let you sit on his lap while he plays gambling, asking for your favorite number for his own luck

Mafia!Anakin who makes sure everyone knows that you're his and only his. Multiple marks on your neck from his lips, his hand on your waist and much more was just basics to publicly claim you

Mafia!Anakin who speaks to you in change between Italian and english, often calling you tesoro, dolcezza but also angel, baby, sweetheart

Mafia! Anakin who finds you and his close friends that he works with as his only family

Mafia!Anakin who shows you the world; takes you to different places in other countries for vacation

Mafia!Anakin who's absolutely in love with your reactions to his gifts for you; your wide smile, your sparkling with excitement eyes, your endless 'thank you' between your kisses

Mafia!Anakin who keeps you away from any drugs his friends bring since he wants to keep you away from such things

Mafia!Anakin who would throw himself on train for you. Who would take a bullet for you if he'd have to, if it meant to keep you safe and happy. Who would do anything you want. Even deprive someone of their life, since he did much worse things

Mafia!Anakin who has a habit of using new things on your delicate body;

you both laid in his king-sized bed as he worshipped your body with his plush, pink lips, gently pressing kisses against your stomach. Between his slim fingers he held the tweezers to occasionally add more radiant diamonds inside your belly button

"I love using them on you. You're just so hot," he murmured against your skin

"So irresistible," he continued with a huskier tone "Such a pretty girl..so beautiful..so gorgeous."

He moved his lips to yours, gently brushing them against each other "You would never leave me, would you?"

You shook your head defiantly, locking your gaze with his blue eyes that you could so easily drown in

"Good girl"

Mafia!Anakin who would never dare himself to treat you like he treats others. You're his favorite girl, his pretty angel and he'd be damned if he even dared himself to adress to you with such coldness or disrespect

Mafia!Anakin who loves the sound of your voice. You could just talk about nonsense, or about the book you've been reading and he'd be completely mesmerized by the sweet, gentle sound of it

Mafia!Anakin who finds you as his only source of comfort. After a rough day all he'll do is clinging to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, savouring your scent. In your presence he could easily calm down, easily forget about the earlier events, at least for some time.

Mafia!Anakin who has a heart of ice but for you he'd burn the world

Mafia!Anakin who killed a man with the nearest object he could find (a book) just because he dared himself to touch you

Mafia!Anakin who hates to argue with you but when it happens, it always ends in the bed with rough love making

Mafia!Anakin who made love to you in every room, every small or bigger place in your shared penthouse

Mafia!Anakin who sometimes, if you're okay with it or insist yourself, takes out his frustration and indignation on you in bed;

"they're just so stupid" he growled in anger and annoyance, letting it all pour on his rough thrust "They can't do one thing correctly.. I swear to god if they mess up another goddamn thing, I'm going to kill them all. Every. Single. One of them"

"they're so useless. So pathetic." he leaned to kiss your neck "They can't do anything right, can't follow a single simple order to save their lives"

Each thrust in and out seemed to go even deeper, hitting this sweet spot that made you see those delightful stars as moans slipped through your mouth. Your eyes kept fighting to stay open, to see this desperate, awfully beautiful expression on his face. This sweaty curls, all messy and getting to his sharp blue eyes, this clenched jaw, his muscles that ripped and were, especially now, looking more defined and flexible than earlier. Gosh, the sight was enough to bring you over the edge

His eyes turned more soft, his own thrusts becoming more gentle. He was proud of himself, making a complete mess out of you and every time he loved to see you like this. All breathless and with marks all over your skin

"But at least I have you to help me release all this pent up anger.. you're so good at it, tesoro. So good for me...Only you can undo me, angioletto" he whispered, his breath growing ragged with each movement of his hips. "Only you can save me from my anger"

Mafia! Anakin who is a switch; yes, he can be a dominant one but he can easily turn into a submissive boy from only you being on top of him;

"Ani..it's so big.." you mewl, trying to adjust to his size in a new position

your words made him let out a low, pleased moan. He couldn't leave his pretty girl all helpless now, could he? His hands roamed towards your hips to help you move on his lenght "You flatter me, principessa" he groaned "Feels too big for you, does it? Too much?"

As much as his words could be true, you didn't want to admit it. You didn't want to stop it "mh--no..just.. perfect" with his help you lifted and slammed down on his cock

Your actions caused him to throw his head back and dig his long fingers to your soft flesh

"you feel so good..." he mumbled. Seeing you accustom to his size, he moved his hands through your body, feeling the need to squeeze, grope and touch every spot

"Dio, you're gonna be the death of me..." He whispered, driving himself deeper into you to feel more friction

Feeling his member pulsing against your walls only gave you another reason to tease him more, to bring him over the edge in the most pleasant way (for you)

"Oh gods..." he mumbled, his teeth gritted as he felt you increasing your movements "You're gonna...drive me... insane, c-cazzo.."

"you're gonna be a good boy and fill me up?" you moaned, watching his screaming in pleasure face

A shiver run down his body after he had heard your breathless words. There was something about seeing you turn from a sweet girl to a taking charge woman that absolutely turned him on more than he would like to admit

"Y-yeah.." he panted, his eyes opening to fix on her face, "I'll be a good boy for you, I'll fill you up... I'll do anything you say... anything to please you, bella"

Mafia!Anakin who goes absolutely crazy when you surprise him with new lingeries, costumes for cosplays; it all drove him insane

Mafia!Anakin who gives you the experience of three times in a row (making you finish for the three times);

his lips gently pressed against your neck, going up to whisper words in your ear "You tell me if you need to stop. You're so tired, I don't want to go too far and hurt you, ok?"

And you, all weary and sensitive after all what happened, could only nod in response. When his lips were going down your body, to your specific spot, your hand went down to grab at his curls, tugging on some strands around your fingers as he finally wrapped his lips around your clit-all with his eyes on yours

"You'll be walking with a limp tomorrow, mio piccolo coniglio" he mumbled between your flesh

Even if you were already tired, the shockwaves of pleasure went through your body, causing your moans to get louder

"Ani.." you whined breathlessly

The sound of his name leaving your lips made his entire body shudder. He loved the way you'd moan, whine and cry out his name. It was like a drug to him, and he craved it, craved the way you sounded and the way you tasted "Gods I love you" he breathed against your core

"the dearest god..." you moaned as his tongue lapped at your folds, making you arch your back

"You taste so good, sweetheart..can't have enough of you, never can.." he speeded his movements which was enough to make you scream

Mafia!Anakin who often talks to you about his traumatic childhood which obviously made a huge impact on his future

Mafia!Anakin who's basically a criminal; wouldn't hesitate to kill someone if that person was in his way

Mafia!Anakin who finds comforting in teaching you Italian. Just loves hearing you speak that language, even if you may suck at it

I've never really thanked you guys for being here, with me. For all your support, for all the lovely sweet comments. For reaching out to me in my inbox/dms..thank you for 301 followers! Really, love all of you with all my heart. Sending big hugs and kisses!

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune @divineani @erosmutt @emmaloo21 @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @fuckmyskywalker

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[firelilyfox]

Crush

Dune : Paul Atreides x female reader

Warnings: None / just fluff

You have a crush on Paul & he might have the same feeling about you

This is my first fanfic on this platform & my first about Dune. Please forgive me for mistakes (English is not my first language)

comments/reblogs are appreciated :]

If you have any ideas what scenarios I could do next then let me know because this is fun!

——————————————————-

The sun was setting as you finally arrived. It was a long and hard day and you are longing for some comfort, but everyone of your friends was busy with drinking and making fun of the believers like Stilgar. Even your best friend Chani was nowhere to be found.

Only he was there. Paul Arteides.

The One. The Voice… or some bullshit like that. You weren’t one of the believers. In your eyes Paul is just a normal human being with a talent for big speeches.

You never really talked to him more than three words because the thought alone made you nervous. Since he joined the Fremen two months ago you had a little … crush on him. And obviously you weren’t really good at smalltalk. Especially when all of your people have eagle eyes on the boy you wanted to talk to.

But tonight he was alone. Nobody paid any attention to him as Paul was sitting in a shadowy corner by a small fireplace, sipping a drink. For a second you wanted to turn away and just going to bed like every other night, but something tells you to do the opposite.

„Can I join you?“ You asked bravely.

Paul looked up with a little smile on his face. „Please do. I’ve been waiting.“

You hesitate for a moment, frowning but you sit down right next to him. „What where you waiting for?“

He chuckled softly. „For someone like you to talk to me.“

„Someone like me?“ You asked confused and watching his smile getting even brighter. Paul has that kind of smile, that makes you want to smile too instantly. All you can hope for is that the flickering light of the fire conceal you’re blushing.

„Yeah. Someone who truly dislikes me.“

You smirked. „What makes you think that I dislike you? Oh, mighty Duke of Arrakis?“

A warm laughter escaped his lips and for the first time ever you really saw his face light up in enjoyment. „Oh please don’t say that. It sounds awful! I only said it because I was in the heat of the moment.“

„I liked it.“

His laughing froze for a moment and he looked surprised. „You liked it? Are you having a stroke or something?“

„No!“ You laughed. „I really liked it. Sure it was a litte … dramatic but in the end you have a talent to bring people together and give them hope. That’s pretty impressing.“

He shrugged his shoulders. „Nah, I’m just good at telling people what they want to hear I guess.“ He hesitated. „Chani told me that you weren’t one of the believers and that you think this whole Lisan al Gaib thing is just bullshit.“ Paul is offering you his cup and you accept to take a sip. Immediately the taste of wine fills your senses. While you process his words you lick some of the wine from your lips and catching him starring at them.

Did you just imagine how his gaze darkened for a second or did that really had an impact on him?

You clear your throat because all of the sudden your mouth got dry again. „You talked to Chani about me?“

A crooked smile shows on his lips. „Yeah I did. I was … I wanted to…“

„I thought you were good with words?“ You say to mock him with success.

„I am good with words! But you have the talent to make me forget what I wanted to say and how.“ His eyes are locked with yours and you are able to feel how your heart skips a beat.

You wanted to say something but your mind were blank. Paul moves closer to you, slowly to make sure that you were able to stop him at any time.

„I like how you unsettle me“, he whispered. You could feel his breath against your lips. „Every time I see you I find new strength. But I never found the courage to talk to you.“

„But you … you always seemed so … full of courage“, your voice was not more than a scratching.

„I’m good at pretending“, Paul swallows hard and his eyes darted to your lips again. „Sometimes.“

„Sometimes?“ You asked.

„I can’t pretend that I don’t want to kiss you right now.“

You wanted to say something, but before you were able to even catch a breath his lips laid on yours. Soft like the morning wind in the desert. His hand holding your cheek and pulling you closer as you gave in to the kiss. Your fingers find their way up his chest and into his curled hair.

A little moan escaped your throat as he intensifies the kiss and as an answer to your reaction, you could feel him smiling against your lips.

„I think Muad’Dib is enjoying his time with the Fremen!“ You two were interrupted by some drunk Fremen men cheering and applauding from afar.

Paul and you are giggling like kids. Both with red cheeks and swollen lips. „Your people like a good show, mh?“

„Only if the mighty Duke of Arrakis is involved.“

[berrieluv]

<3; aaron johnson x reader (i think i didn't use pronouns but it's mention that the reader has a vagina) summary: you know damn well, you horny friends. kiki says: this fits contains unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), cheating kink, the feel of guilt that it's never enough to make him stop, i think this smut it's very light, just trying to keep you fed while i work in the angst. also english isn't my first language so i apologize for the bad writing.

me and your husband.

For the public, having you involved in the movie Kraven with Aaron after Bullet Train was just a normal occurrence, two actors working together more than once, nothing that hasn't happen before and nothing that won't happen again.

For Aaron, it was just his masterplan working. He craved you near him, he needed you there. He couldn't function properly anymore without you, without your body and the way your legs wrap around his neck.

His blue eyes are long gone by now, so full with lust he can not think of anything else. He already made you cum three times before you had to take a shower and attend a date, and now here you are again, seizing the day like you started it, with his tongue inside your wet cunt.

He kisses your thigh softly, his hand behind your knee, his mouth marking every inch of your skin with kisses, smelling your dripping pussy and looking amused at the wet spot on the beige sheets.

"You bought them for me?" He moans, looking at your lingerie next to him, the one he just took off the moment you walked back from dinner, his face buried between your thighs, you didn't. You bought them because they were pretty and expensive, and you could afford them "You look so pretty" He says.

His wife is sleeping in the next room, if you get close enough to the wall you could hear her sleep, which was weird, an expensive five stars hotel with thin walls, you must think they would be soundproof for the price. Or maybe it was your guilt, your senses sharpened in shame, making sure you never forget he's a married man.

But maybe you weren't better than that, but why should you. He wanted you, he needed you and loved you even more than you found him attractive, which was to say much.

"Fuck..." You moan when Aaron's tongue was inside your pussy. His hand grabbing your underwear and placing it on your thigh again, grabbing your skin and the lingerie along, the other hand over your belly, keeping you grounded.

Aaron licks the sides of your pussy, his tongue gently going through your folds, he teases your sensitive parts, hitting the right places, he knows how to use his tongue, and it feels like it has been wasted all this time.

Your moans grew louder when two of his fingers are inside you without any previous notice, moving them in and out, his tongue sucking on your clit and you feel yourself getting lost in pleasure.

"Is this good?" He asks out of breath, a big smile plastered across his face, almost like he thought he didn't need anything else but the sweet scent of your dripping cunt.

Was it good? It was fantastic.

"Hold for me, princess?" He asks softly, your legs curled up while your hands keep them up grabbing behind your knees.

He touches your ass, his hand traveling all over every part of your body, his lips are all over your sweet wet cunt, eating like a starving man, making sure every single drop of your wetness goes into his mouth.

"I need you..." He moans against your folds "Fuck, I need you so much"

Aaron takes all of your release, drinking it all, when he looks up his chin is all wet and a spark of proudness in his eyes.

He doesn't even look this proud when he's on a press conference.

"Keep holding your legs" He orders, taking off his jeans and boxers "Good girl" He praises with a smile when he walks back to bed.

You remind silence most of the times, your words consumed by your moans and whimpers, you want him so badly.

"Please..." You finally find the way to speak, your breath heavy and your heart beating faster than it should when he starts thrusting into you. His right hand holding himself on the mattress to not lay all of his weight on you.

His left hand massaging your breasts, treating it like it was a stress ball.

"Shit, princess" He moans, his eyes closing even if he tries to fight it, he loves watching you. He loves the look in your eyes and how they roll, going all blank when he starts thrusting faster.

"Oh!" You moan, and he smirks like a bastard, enjoying knowing he's the one making you feel like this "Oh, God! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You cry, almost chocking in your own pleasure.

"Sh, sh..." He coos "Baby, you're chocking, princess" He chuckles, enjoying your desperation "I'm not even near your throat"

He caresses your cheek with a soft smile, moving slowly down to your throat, applying just the right pressure to make you gasp for air, shutting your moans.

"Don't be so loud..." He demands, it was meant to be teasing, but his voice sounds dominant, his expression is serious and his eyes darkened with lust and need of control "You know Sam is in the next room"

Sam, he doesn't refer as my wife anymore. She stopped being my wife a few months ago, just a few weeks after you became my everything. The air he breathed, not only his wants but his needs.

You feel a warm sensation running through your insides, a loud groan when he lets it out, his cum painting your cunt and dripping down your skin.

"God, I love my little masterpiece" He chuckles, watching your thighs covered by his cunt. "You're tired?"

He asks softly and you nod, his phone starts ringing at the same time you hear his wife walking around their hotel room, you wonder if he hears her.

"Your phone..." You say with your eyes closed when he ignores it and walks to the bathroom.

"Can wait" He says without hesitation.

"What if it's your wife?" You know is her.

"She can wait" Aaron says, it's almost like he doesn't care and a part of you knows he doesn't. "I'll clean you up first, super star"

[forcemeanakin]

Right where you left me.

•WARNINGS: Angst. Situationship. May trigger people with abandonment issues or that have intimacy problems. Not technically cheating, but it may be triggering. Anakin's a douche bag.

Pairing: au!Anakin Skywalker x you!reader.

Summary: Anakin decides to pursue things outside of your relationship, breaking your heart in the process.

Word count: 1.7k.

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD, english is my second language, so please be gentle. If there are any mistakes, pls let me know in private so I can correct them, thanks :) Also I have a serious issue between differentiating “in” and “on” situations, so bare with me lmao.

☽⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✳⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✺⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✳⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯☾

You ran into the coffee shop, in a hurry, which is a normal state for you and your continuous tardiness. “Fuck.” You muttered under your breath as you forced the door open with unnecessary strength. 

Anakin must’ve been waiting for half an hour now. 

On your tippy toes, you scanned the room, looking for the golden curls to stand out from a booth. 

Bingo. 

Trying to hide your excitement, you rushed to the table where your -relatively- new thing was waiting for you. You cursed your bag for making so much noise and told yourself off for packing so much shit. Maybe there was no need to bring all the stuff with you, but you couldn’t help yourself in your excitement to show Anakin all of the activities you had planned for you two and the remaining part of the summer. 

“Hey.” You whispered loud enough for him to listen to you, but your shortness of breath didn’t go unnoticed by him. He gave you a toothless smile as you sat down in front of him. “I’m sorry I’m late, I was at work and my manager-” You didn’t finish the sentence, instead, your face let him know everything he needed.

“Don’t sweat. I haven’t waited long. Five minutes to be exact.” He checked his phone carelessly. 

Oh. 

“Training ran long?” You hoped.

“Oh, no, just ran a little late.” He shrugged his shoulders. Like it was of no importance. 

At least you felt ashamed for being late. He didn’t seem to carry the same guilt.

Sometimes Anakin did this thing that stung your heart a little. His number one priority had always been him. And when you agreed to try things with him, you knew that was implied in the contract. Part of you had been hoping that you were going to be the reason that changed. 

So far, you had failed in your mission. 

“Oh, right.” You tried to fake a smile. 

“And how’s life outside of work, baby?” 

And just like that, your heart felt a little lighter and spark returned to your face. Especially when he reached out to hold your hand and play with your fingers. Especially when he used that nickname that you loved and you hadn’t heard in a while from his lips.

“It’s fine. My summer classes are always boring.” You rolled your eyes, chuckling at the end because he knew how much you hated to take extra courses. 

“I told you to give yourself some time off in the summer.” He raised his eyebrow.

“I know, I know…” You huffed. “Actually, I’ve been working on that.” You smiled, turning to your bag and taking some of the things you packed. 

Tickets for one of your favorite movies, that he insisted he wanted to watch with you. It made you smile so hard when he had proposed that plan, given that he was aware how much that franchise meant to you. 

You also took out some coins for the local fair, the one you two had walked by and promised to do that as your next date. 

The brand new control for your gaming console you had just bought to join him in video games because he said he wanted to share that without you. He seemed pretty excited to do that as an activity together and he even listed all of the games you might like. 

And right when you were about to take the keys of your summer house out, to hint him that you were ready to take the next step in your relationship, he stopped you. 

Anything intimate always made you nervous, even when you two were in the middle of it. It was a very vulnerable space for you and Anakin was your first in many things. It was normal for you to still be adapting to it. 

But you wanted to try. For you.

For him.

As a more experienced person than you, Anakin had needs. Needs that you sometimes failed to meet. That even though he was patient, you could feel how your lack of confidence sometimes bugged him. Not in an explicit manner, just… the occasional huff when he tried something experimental in bed or when you started to psych yourself out of the make out session. 

Any other person would have already left, but Anakin was your friend first and he was well aware of your uptight personality way before the two of you agreed to be friends with benefits. He knew what he was getting into and he was actually glad to help you experiment with that part of yourself you normally hid.

So your demonstration of being an organized and planning psycho was nothing new to him.

“Hey, hey…” He slowed you down, barely gazing the things on the table and fixing his eyes on yours. “Before you get started, I wanted to talk to you.”

His serious tone alerted you. But you weren’t surprised. Something inside of you had been alerting you all weekend. You thought it was your well-known anxiety. However, this felt unusual. Like his habitual ghosting and lack of response for the past few days meant different things this time.

“Sure.” You took a deep breath, trying to make it not so obvious. “Go ahead.” You nodded with a little smile trying to appear serene. 

“So, sorry for not replying to your texts this weekend. I was out in nature, thinking and connecting, you know?” He tilted his head, his eyes looking for some compassion out of you.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” You rushed the words when the silence dipped between you two, part of it your fault because you were too worried with your sinking heart. 

You could understand a little impromptu retreat, you only wished it wasn’t right after you did some pretty intimate stuff back at your house. That last day you two crossed more boundaries than ever before. And even though you highly enjoyed it, his absence after that had you feeling nauseous, making you overthink and regret your decision of not giving him your virginity right in that opportunity. Maybe he would have shown more interest if you would have-

“So…Uhm… I think we should stop hanging out.” 

Your heart was down by your feet when he pronounced those words. You tried with all your soul to control your trembling hands that lied in between his palms so he didn’t notice how he was ripping you apart. Your irregular breath threatened to put you on blast but you managed to keep it on the low. 

“It’s not about you, seriously. I love hanging out with you and spending time with you, among other stuff.” He chuckled lightly, but instead of following his action, you released the breath you were holding. “But I’ve been talking to this girl and I just want to make sure that everything is working out with her. Emotionally.”

The sting in your eyes only grew bigger as you realized how embarrassing and heart shattering this moment was for you. Your cheeks felt hot and tight, something you tried hard to disguise with a breezy exterior. 

Like a flash, you remembered the day both of you talked about the rules of your agreement. You kicked yourself mentally when you reminisced of the moment where both of you agreed to let the other one know if they wanted to pursue something with someone else. You had said yes, in the expectation that his constant checking in on you and daily talks was enough proof of interest. Meaning that he would not be looking outside of your “situationship” .

And you agreed, because that was your case. You were interested enough. 

“You let me know if you want to see another guy, okay?”

You could almost laugh at such stupid idea. Didn’t he know?

“I think it’s better if we stop talking, so I can figure out things with her.” He scrunched his nose, like he was running out of words.

But how many words do you actually need to let someone know you don’t want them? He didn’t need much more. You’ve gotten the message. 

“It’s nothing definitive, but yeah… Let me know if you have any questions.” He gave you a side smile, still fidgeting with your frozen-in-place fingers. 

That took you out of the slow motion trance you were in. 

“Y-yeah, okay.” You took your hands out of his quickly, blinking quickly into realization. You started to rush everything back in your purse, screaming the word “Stupid!” over and over again in your head while you carried on with a calm expression. “Do not worry about me. No questions on my part. Thanks for letting me know.”

I guess.

“Totally agree with not talking anymore.” You finally stopped for a second after pushing all of the items on your tote bag. He seemed to be analyzing your expression in search of any sign of real approval, because your shy and cold body language wasn’t reassuring him. So you put on your bravest face and forced a smile. “I hope everything turns out great with her.” 

Speaking those words felt like hot iron was passing through your throat. 

He gave you an honest smile and got up, taking his jacket with him. “Thank you. And thanks for understanding.”

You stayed frozen in place, your purse on your lap with your hands clutching it so hard you could feel your nails through the fabric. You limited yourself to nodding quietly and letting the side of your mouth curve slightly up. 

“I’m sorry I can’t stay-” He began explaining his sudden escape. 

“Don’t be. Don’t worry about me. ” You dismissed. “I’ll just stay and have lunch.” You took the menu and fixed your gaze on the listed items, anything that wouldn’t be his eyes. 

He excused himself off the table politely, leaving you all alone and speechless. You glued your eyes to his back until he exited through the door, begging silently that he would turn around and say something else. Something that would pull you back into his life.

It seemed like that wasn’t his plan.

“I know I shouldn’t look for you for sexual stuff, but can I contact you for friend stuff?”

The text arrived that Saturday at 1am, 5 days later, erasing any progress you had done. 

The day of his usual drunken nights. 

Right around the time he used to get bored and there wasn't anything left to smoke. 

Exactly at the time he would always contact you. 

And you?

You were still at the restaurant. Unable to move.

Every day since that day. 

Right where he left you. 

[seventeenreasonswhy]

Same Team! A YJH Office Romance Pt. 1

Idol!Jeonghan x ProductionStaff!Reader

You’re serious about your job, but not as serious as Yoon Jeonghan is about flirting.

Part 1: ~2k words, Part 2

Series Content: slooowwwwww burn, fluff!, cute flirting!, will-they-won’t-they vibes!, tension!!, office crushes, office romance, appearances by all of the members, reader is shy and gets flustered easily!, jeonghan is jeonghan-ing!

My Masterlist

Author’s Note: This is just Part 1! Not sure how long this series is going to be, but I promise there will be smut eventually lol! I just got into the head of this MC and wanted to create a tense, flirty coworker dynamic with Yoon Jeonghan, the prettiest man alive! Also, I should mention that the representation of Koreans in this chapter is completely fictional and in now way representative of how actual Korean people feel about foreign coworkers! It’s a little K-Drama “ice queen” trope, sorry! I hope you enjoy! 😊

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

If you had known there was going to be so much paperwork involved, you would have just printed and signed everything ahead of time. But they had mentioned that the in-person onboarding was required.

“Sign here,” the onboarding representative pointed to various lines for your signature.

Payment, discretion, benefits... the contract was airtight.

That’s the K-Pop industry for you, you thought as you diligently scanned through each line. You could feel the other new hires at the onboarding getting restless.

“Sorry,” you said to the room, “I’m kind of slow at reading Korean.” You could practically smell the mixture of surprise and annoyance coming from the others seated around the long conference table. If you were being honest, you knew that your Korean was pretty good. (Not that you’d ever admit it out loud!)

“Wow, you speak pretty well,” the onboarding representative said.

“Thank you,” you smiled politely.

“Is she pretty, too?” you heard the woman seated across from you mutter to the woman on her right, eliciting a soft giggle. You caught her eye for a moment, smiling, but she looked away quickly.

You had to remember that small gestures you considered normal in the States might come off as rude or overly familiar. You focused again on the contract in front of you, trying not to mind whether you were the last one to finish signing.

“Once everyone is done signing everything, we’ll take you on a tour of the building, and we’ll end the day by swinging by the practice room and meeting the members.” The onboarding representative clapped his hands cheerfully, and everyone stood, bowing and shaking each other’s hands as they left the room. You were selected to go with the second tour group, with the two women seated across from you and another young man. You were all new “executive production staff” and would be sharing a four-desk cubicle.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N,” you said, bowing politely to your new colleagues. They greeted you politely, if a little stiffly. The two women seemed to know each other already and were sticking together. The young guy was typing rapidly into a messaging app on his phone.

“Um,” one of the women said in a timid voice, directed at you.

“...Yes?” you asked as politely and as gently as possible.

“Where are you from?” The other woman asked more boldly. You noted that she didn’t use polite speech.

“I grew up in <hometown>, in the U.S.,” you answered politely, deciding to ignore this woman’s attitude.

“What are you doing here? Don’t they have plenty of production jobs in the States?” she asked in English.

Ah, she’s gonna be a tough nut to crack. You anticipated some culture-clashing and were prepared to answer any questions or handle any tension that might arise. You wanted to be prepared, so you had done your best to study the culture before moving, talking to friends whose parents were from Korea and reading books about Korean history and social norms. And by watching (probably too many) TikToks. But, you had focused most of your energy on learning the language.

But the fact still remained: you were the outsider here.

“Fluent English speakers are in high demand, after all,” you tried to answer as smoothly as you could in English.

“Jiyeon-shi,” the woman’s friend gently hit her arm, her tone both amused and chiding. The woman, “Jiyeon,” just stared at you, her expression smug.

“Well, don’t expect to turn Korean just because you got a job here and use our skincare routine,” she said, her words laced with venom. Ah, she’s speaking Korean again, you noted.

“I would never presume such a thing. I look forward to working with you,” you bowed deeply. Kwon Jiyeon scoffed just before the four of you were guided toward the office floor.

“This is where you’ll be working,” the tour guide, a young woman wearing a face mask and glasses, gestured to a partitioned-off space in a sea of similar cubicles. “You’ll likely not spend much time at your desk, but please make yourselves comfortable.” She directed you and the others to the staff kitchen, the lounge, the row of conference rooms that needed to be booked at least two days in advance, the company cafeteria, the courtyard on the roof, the editing bays, and finally, you were at the practice rooms.

“This is where various groups and their performance coaches and choreographers can be found,” the tour guide said. You could feel the bass of a song pulsating through the walls and could see tight groups of dancers practicing in the mirror through the small windows in the doors to the spacious, sprung-floored rooms.

You were assigned to exclusively work with the group SEVENTEEN, probably the number one K-Pop group in the world at the moment. You felt unbelievably lucky to have gotten the gig. You were fully expecting to work with idols who hadn’t even debuted yet, but the interviewer was so impressed with your experience in the American music industry—and the way you picked up the language quickly—that he felt it would be a waste of your talent to send you to a group that could disband in a couple of years.

“Okay, it looks like they’re about to take a break,” the tour guide said before facing the four of you. “Listen, the members are very polite and kind, but please respect their privacy and their position at all times. This is meant to be a formal meeting, so please remember to be professional.”

Interesting warning, you thought. You figured there had probably been incidents with staff in the past. You could imagine. There was a lot asked of the idols in this industry. Not to mention they were all gorgeous. You hoped they wouldn’t be uncomfortable working with you. Jiyeon and her friend (“Daein” you learned) were visibly flustered. You averted your eyes, trying to focus on your breathing. I can’t get nervous, you thought, these are going to be my colleagues.

The tour guide opened the door, and the four of you filed into the studio. The atmosphere was rowdier than you expected, and more crowded.

So many people around just for a dance rehearsal? Or is it just open studio time?

There were a group of girls, one in a folding chair, the others sitting or stretching on the floor nearby, facing away from the mirrors. A group of guys on the far end of the studio, some of them even snacking, some of them talking to each other or into a camera, held by some other young person wearing a face mask. All the while, music was playing at the far end of the studio, and there they were.

Well, some of them.

You felt your stomach flip.

Well, you couldn’t imagine not reacting to them, right? They were famous. And... you didn’t know how to describe it. Standing there, next to this wary Jiyeon and her follower, Daein, and the other young guy on your tour whose name you already forgot... and the nice tour guide, and the staff in the corner she was talking to...

Somehow they all just disappeared, and you were watching the group of men in the middle of the hard studio floor, dancing in perfect sync to the music.

So this is what it’s like to be in the presence of real celebrities, was all you could think.

Your heart was pounding like crazy. You could tell that your face was probably beet red. You tried to breath.

They’re ...boys, really—you told yourself. You’d learned that age was important in Korea. You’d also learned that you were a year older than the group’s oldest member.

Seungcheol, you remembered. That was his name.

... A pretty name.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of their dancing, until suddenly the music died down.

“What, what!”

“Hey!”

“Why are we stopping?”

A flurry of protests came from these men (—boys), and the tour guide clapped her hands together.

“We apologize for the interruption,” she bowed to the group, now paying attention to her—and facing in the direction of where you’d entered the studio, facing the four of you.

“We’d like to take just a quick moment to introduce you to these four new executive production staff that will be working with you from today. They are the sharpest and most creative candidates, and some are even coming from overseas. Please let me introduce...” she gestured to each of us, gave us a moment to bow, and tell these ... men ... that we looked forward to working hard together.

You realized there were only eight of them standing there in front of you. It didn’t feel real. ...Aren’t there thirteen of them? you wondered.

And then, as if summoned, three more of them appeared from the other side of the long room—the boys who you’d seen talking into a camera. You involuntarily caught eyes with one of them, briefly. He bowed slightly, his kind eyes crinkling.

Cute... you thought involuntarily, quickly averting your eyes and bowing slightly.

You recognized him. “Joshua.” His Korean name was “Hong Jisoo.” You wondered what to call him... You’d both lived in America, right? “Joshua” was fine, right?

“And this is Y/N, coming to us from the United States,” the tour guide said. You snapped out of it, turning to the members and bowing quickly, unable to look at them directly to see their reactions.

“It’s nice to meet all of you!”

Fuck, I sound so nervous. What the hell...

“Nice to meet you!”

“Thank you for being here!”

“Whoa, you’re American!”

“Do you speak Korean?”

“Really? Wow!”

“Wait, you know Korean?”

“We go to America all the time.”

Again, a flurry of words flew from the crowd of boys. You don’t really realize until you’re in front of this many people, but 13 is a lot... you continued to stare nowhere in particular, just avoiding their faces. But even judging by their feet, there were still only 11 of them.

As Jiyeon and the young man—who had finally put his phone away—bowed shyly and exchanged some words with a couple of the members... from what you could tell... That one must be “Hoshi”... a surprisingly average-height man with bleached blonde hair and a baggy hoodie on, speaking politely with Jiyeon, who was covering half of her face with her hand.

“Nice to meet you.” A velvety voice came from right next to you, and you jumped a little in spite of yourself before turning to face the most angelic looking man you’d ever seen in your life—grinning softly and staring right at you. You managed just a fraction of a second of eye contact before averting your gaze, positive that your face was flushed and Yoon Jeonghan could absolutely tell.

“Nice to meet you.” You bowed, suddenly conscious of every tiny gesture you were making, wondering if you shouldn’t have worn your hair down—if a ponytail or a bun would have looked more polished, or maybe you chose the wrong outfit, the wrong shoes...

“Thank you for your work,” another voice came from next to Jeonghan, and you turned and bowed. It was Seungcheol, the leader. He looked spectacular up close. They all did. It was like they weren’t even real. You couldn’t believe that real people could look so stunning, just casually.

Jeonghan and Seungcheol joined the other members, and everyone exchanged greetings before gradually returning to practice.

You couldn’t help but look at him again. He was so beautiful. You’d never seen someone like him before. Your heart was hammering in your chest. You didn’t even care how red your face probably was. How he had such a beautiful face, and a slight build... but he looked so strong at the same time. You glanced in his direction before the tour guide rounded you up again to leave for the day. 

But he was already looking right at you.

It was too unbelievable for you to look away...

“Welcome,” he mouthed at you, smiling as you were led out of the room—completely speechless.

Your eyes stayed locked until you were out of sight.

[finelinefae]

everything with you

synopsis: a simple, true kind of love

word count: 7.1k

contains: fluff, angst, cancer, brief mentions of sexual assault, allusions to domestic violence and a toxic relationship, normal people/one day vibes, boyfriend harry

a/n: posting this here because i love it so much and i was feeling emo. also have been away for a week so haven't had much time to finish writing things I'm still working on (there will be a soft girl sunday post tomorrow don't worry and i am also working on a tattoo h blurb as well !!)

. . .

October 1st 2017

Harry and Y/N met during freshers week at University in 2017. 

"Should we make out?" 

They were standing in a closet now after meeting just ten minutes ago downstairs. 

"M' names Harry," Harry spoke, sitting on the couch and looking down at his first drink of the night. He wasn't much of a drinker but also feared missing out or being seen as unordinary - at university, drinking felt like it was deemed ordinary. 

Y/N blushed, her cheeks pink from the humidity in the room and the fact that a guy was talking to her. She pulled down the sleeves of her dress to hide her shaky hands. She noticed she stuck out like a sore thumb with how she decided to dress, her long sleeves and knee-length skirt juxtaposed with every other girl in the room. 

"'M Y/N." She responded. Harry nodded, sheepish and awkward as he tried to think about something to say. 

They were sitting side by side, looking out at the other people dancing to the music that echoed through the house. "What do you study?" Y/N managed to ask and cringed at the question. Was it normal to talk about school at a house party?

"Music." He nodded as Y/N tried to think up another question despite already asking one. "What about you?"

"English." She said and an awkward silence fell between them. 

Harry eventually turned to look at her, lips parting at the natural beauty even just from looking at her side profile. Her hair was in waves that fell down her back and he thought her dress was pretty too. She had a tiny bump on the bridge of her nose that led to her plump, cherry red lips. 

She felt his gaze on him and turned her head, catching his eyes and looking down from embarrassment. He was beautiful like a living, breathing adonis. His eyes were a sea glass green and he had chestnut brown curls on his head. 

"It's a little loud in here don't you think?" Harry spoke, his voice seemed closer to her now. 

Y/N looked up and looked around at the crowd of people, "Just a little." She said, 

"Do you want to go upstairs?" He wondered if maybe it would be easier to get to know her in a quieter setting.

Y/N followed him upstairs, wondering whether he knew where they were going and if he knew anyone else at the party. She had only just met him and despite his awkwardness, her trust issues were too much for her to just relax around him. 

He opened the door and pulled her inside, "Um...Harry?"

He nodded, already guessing what she was about to say and looking down at her, "We're in a closet." He stated. 

"Yeah." She whispered, her heart racing at the close proximity. 

"I don't live here." He tried to hide his embarrassment. 

Suddenly, Y/N burst out laughing, the entire situation was something she didn't see coming and she couldn't help but laugh at the predicament. It wasn't too long before Harry began to laugh along with her, the both of them standing in the closet in hysterics. 

When their laughter quietened down, Harry looked down at Y/N. His demeanor changed as he admired her as she bit back a smile. "Should we make out?" 

Her lips parted, "U-Um-I-I've never been kissed before."

"Me neither." He murmured, he wasn't even sure why he asked, he just felt like it was something he should be doing being at a freshers party. 

Y/N thought about it for a second, she gulped down her nerves and looked at his lips before looking at him again. "O-okay." She nodded. 

She'd never been kissed but neither had he, so neither of them could complain it was a bad kiss. She thought it'd be better to kiss him now to get the firsts out of the way. 

"Okay." He released a shaky breath and slowly leaned forward. 

Y/N stood on her toes the closer he got to her, their breaths echoed around the room as their hearts raced at the same time. The tension was thick as their lips were closer to touching. It seemed strange that the first person to touch her lips was a man she had met just ten minutes ago. 

Harry reached for her hand, brushing his fingers against them and feeling how soft her skin was. Her eyes fluttered shut when he felt his fingers run up her arm, a path of goosebumps arising. Her nose rubbed against his and her eyes fluttered shut when his fingertips touched her waist. 

She had the urge to press a kiss to his jawline as his fingers danced across the skin on her arm, "Harry," She whispered, her head resting on his shoulder. 

 Everything she was feeling right now was exactly how she thought she'd feel if someone kissed her and yet their lips hadn't even touched yet.

His lips brushed against hers and eventually, she leapt up into his arms and pressed her lips to his, arms wrapping around his neck. She whimpered at the sensation of his tongue tangled with hers, her entire body felt as though it was on fire as he continued to touch her. She tugged on his hair like her hands had a mind of their own and he released a guttural groan which made her tummy flutter with excitement. 

If they were to continue, she was curious to see where things would go next but her curiosity was killed when the door opened and they pulled away from each other. 

"My bad." Someone chuckled and closed the door again. 

Harry was breathing erratically, looking down at the floor as his mind whirred. 

"I should go." Y/N was the first to talk and before he could even reply, she opened the door and left. 

February 20th 2018

Harry was late for class but he was in no rush to get there. In fact, he hoped the seminar would be over by the time he got there so he didn't have to answer any questions. He hated talking in front of people. 

He decided to take a longer walk to his seminar, going in a direction he had never gone before and hoped he would get lost along the way. 

As he pulled out his phone to change the song he was listening to, he ended up bumping into someone else. "I-I'm sorry," He immediately crouched down and picked up the books on the floor.

"I-It's fine, don't worry about it." A delicate hand touched his as they reached for the same book. 

His head perked up when he registered who the person was, the voice was the last thing he heard before he went to sleep every night. "Y/N?" He spoke before he could stop himself. 

She looked up at him, he noticed she looked different to when he had first met her. The light in her eyes looked dimmer and she seemed more on edge than when he had first met her. 

"Harry?" She smiled, standing up. 

"It's good to see you." Flashes of their first kiss came to mind and he quickly brushed them away. 

"How's the first year treating you so far?" She tucked her hair behind her ear. 

"It's been... good." He was lying but he wouldn't tell her that, not when he felt the need to impress her. 

"Oh I'm glad, we should-"

"Y/N!" Y/N stilled, her head turning to look past Harry's shoulder. Her sudden change in expression made him turn to see the person who had caused it. 

A man stood waving his hand in the air in the distance, he looked slightly older than both Harry and Y/N. "Who's that?" Harry looked at Y/N.

"T-That's Shaun." She muttered, holding her books tightly to her chest. 

"Is he your boyfriend?" He hated how the question tasted when he asked it but wanted to know. 

"Yes." She said, his heart was hurting but he tried his best not to show it. "I should get going."

She walked past him but he called her name before she managed to get away, "Here," He took out a pen and wrote on the front of the page of her notepad his number, "In case you need me."

She smiled but it didn't meet her eyes, "Thank you." 

He watched her as she walked away and didn't start to walk again until she walked around the corner. 

He couldn't help the gut feeling that was definitely going to need his number whether she wanted it or not.

May 15th 2018

Harry had finished his last music exam and stood in his dorm room, packing his room up since his mother would be picking him up tomorrow afternoon for the summer. 

He knew other people were out partying and enjoying the fact that the first year was over but he was too keen to get home. University hadn't treated him nicely and that was just the way it was for him. 

He hadn't made many friends besides a few in his music class, even then he wouldn't really consider them friends, mostly just people he spoke to now and then. He hadn't been to a party since the first week of freshers nor did he really want to. 

"Fuck." He murmured to himself when he could hear the vibrations of his phone ringing. He rummaged through the piles of items he had created whilst packing and eventually found his phone under a pile of clothes. 

The number was unknown but he picked it up anyway. 

"Hello?" He frowned, waiting for a response from the unknown caller. 

"H-Harry?" He stood straight and held his breath when the voice he hadn't heard in a while was talking to him on the phone. "I-It's Y/N."

I know. That was what he wanted to say but instead waited for her to carry on speaking. He wasn't sure as to why she was calling him now since he had given her his number three months ago. He spent the first few days waiting for a call from her but was always let down. 

"U-Um, I know we haven't spoken in a while b-but I really need you to come g-get me." She was on the verge of tears as she held the phone to her ear, waiting for him to say something.

Harry cleared his throat, "Are you okay?" He asked, concern in his voice as he walked to the door. 

He waited for a response, "No." She sobbed, "I'm at a party outside campus on Melville Street and I don't know anyone else." 

He stumbled over his belongings as he pulled his shoes on and tugged on his jacket. "Hey, don't worry. I'm on my way and I promise I'll be there in five minutes." 

"O-Okay," She whimpered, "Thank you...Harry." 

He ended the call and raced down the steps to the front door, running out and making his way to Melville Street where he knew all the parties were held throughout the year. He could already see a mass of people at one particular house at the end of the road and could only assume it was the house Y/N had called him from. 

He pushed his way past the other students, apologising as he did so but making no effort to stop himself from getting to Y/N. He ran up the stairs and opened the door to each room, ignoring the screeching from teenagers making out and wanting him to leave. 

Eventually, he got to the end of the hallway and faced a closet door. He slowly put his ear to the door and heard the sniffles and cries of someone behind it. Carefully, he pulled the door open and looked down to see Y/N, crying into her knees as she curled up into herself. 

He closed the door behind him and crouched down in front of her, "Hey," He whispered, not wanting to frighten her. 

She looked up, cheeks tear stained and makeup smothered which she tried to wipe away with the back of her hand. "You're here." She whimpered and wasted no time in leaping forward and wrapping her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder. 

This was the last thing he was expecting to happen tonight but he didn't stop from holding her tightly in an attempt to squeeze the pain out of her. Sometimes people just wanted a hug and he just so happened to be the only person who could give that to her right now. 

"What happened Y/N?" He looked her in the eye and was brought back to the first time they were in a closet together. He wished he could go back to that time or at least be with her now under different circumstances. 

"It's nothing." She wiped away her tears as best as she could. 

"I don't think you would have called me of all people if it were nothing." He cupped the side of her cheek and noticed a bruise under her eye. His heart fell out of his chest when the worst-case scenario came to mind, "D-did Shaun do this to you?"

He didn't need an answer from her because the look on her face was clear enough to tell that he was right. Y/N began sobbing all over again, "How long Y/N?" Harry asked, firmly. 

She didn't answer, "Y/N, how long?" 

"Since February," She confessed in a whisper and hid herself away from him. 

Harry felt an incredible urge to walk out to find Shaun and release every ounce of his rage onto him but he also knew that wouldn't do anything to help Y/N at this moment. So he took a deep breath and placed a gentle hand on Y/N's shoulder. 

She looked up with wide, teary eyes and tried to crack a smile, "Let's get you out of here." 

She laughed breathily, "What? You don't like being in a closet with me anymore?"

He couldn't seem to find it in himself to laugh with her, "Not when you're like this Y/N."

She loved the way his voice sounded, she had been thinking about it ever since she first kissed him in the closet. Maybe that's why Shaun treated her like he did because she was lying in bed with him and dreaming about someone else. 

Harry walked out of the house with Y/N under his arm, shielding her away from the party. "Do you have anyone who can pick you up from your dorm?"

Y/N looked down at her shoes, embarrassment filling her, "I-I moved in with Shaun, he didn't want me living with the other girls and he's in his second year so..."

"Fuck." Harry said, eyes wide. 

"Yeah," She laughed, pitifully. "Feel free to name me an idiot for the next few hours."

Harry sighs, "I'd never call you that Y/N. Sometimes we make mistakes when we're cast out into loneliness by others." 

They carried on walking in silence. Y/N wasn't sure where they were going until they got to Harry's accommodation. "We'll have to sleep here for the night." 

"A-Are you sure?" Y/N was nervous, wringing her hands together. 

He didn't reply as he led her upstairs to his dorm where he knew everyone else was out getting drunk. She stepped into his room and was surprised to see the piles on the floor. It was amusing and sad to see. Each pile seemed to represent a different part of him, parts she knew nothing about, and yet he was the first person she thought about calling when she was in trouble. It felt like a cruel trick, she relied heavily upon strangers to lift her up because it was easier than being seen as weak by the people she deemed most important. 

"I've been packing, m' mum's picking me up tomorrow. It's a bit of a mess." He begins picking up things from the floor, underwear and pages of sheet music. 

"You play guitar?" She was still standing by the door.

"A bit, piano mostly." She notices the keyboard at his desk. 

"You can take the bed, I don't mind sleeping on the floor." He stands, not sure how to act with a girl in the room, especially a girl he thought about before he went to sleep.

"Why can't we both sleep on the bed?" She wondered, kicking her shoes off. 

"Y-Yeah," Harry gulped, "W-Whatever makes you comfortable." 

Y/N and Harry sat side by side on the bed and were immediately brought back to their first interaction. Except this time they didn't have the noise of the party to fill the awkward silence. 

"He didn't rape me, Harry." She whispers out of nowhere, she was crying again and he hated it. 

"I never thought he did." He lied, he did think that.

"I-I'm not that desperate." 

"I never said you were." 

"Shaun was good to me and then... I've never been in a relationship before. I didn't know how it was supposed to go." She confessed.

"I know," He knew she needed to talk about it but he also knew she didn't particularly want to. 

"Right." The sheets ruffled beside him and he looked over to see her lying on the bed with her back facing him. Her shoulders were shaking as she cried into his pillow.

Harry didn't know what to do. He wasn't good at comforting people or talking to people or being around people but he couldn't live with himself if he just sat there and watched her cry. He twisted his body and placed a hand on her shoulder. He noticed her flinch slightly but in a blink of an eye, she turned around and buried her face into his stomach, wrapping her arms around him and sobbing into his shirt. 

Harry did nothing as he ran his fingers through her hair and just let her cry for the next hour. 

"Harry," Y/N whispered in the dark, the both of them lying side by side flat on their backs. 

"Yeah." He whispered back.

"I wish I didn't leave the first time." Her confession surprised him. He thought he was the only one who thought about their kiss daily. He often thought how they'd be today if she were to have stayed. 

"Me too." He said and felt her pinkie hook around his. 

They fell asleep after that. 

June 20th 2018

It was summer and Harry was in Italy with his family. 

"Harry! Lunch is ready." His mother called from the patio as he sat in a hammock with his guitar. 

He lugged himself out of the hammock and felt a vibration in his back pocket. 

Y/N: I hope you're having a good time x

He bit back a smile, feeling giddy with the fact that she had messaged him in the middle of the day even though they'd been texting on and off since the summer began. 

Harry: Yeah it's been alright, too hot for my liking.

He held his breath as the dots began to appear as she typed out a reply.  

Y/N: Why am I not surprised? x

Harry: I've been working on a few songs whilst I'm out here though

Y/N: I look forward to being the first to hear them x 

Y/N smiled as she looked down at her phone whilst she sat in the back room on her break from working at the supermarket. He had told her once he'd never played a song before to anyone, not even his mother. She asked him if he'd ever play something to her and he immediately replied with three letters. 'Yes'. 

Y/N worked for the rest of the day and finished her shift at three thirty. She had to pick up a few things before she went back to her house where she was living with her mother and grandmother. 

She went to check the time on her phone but ended up seeing a message from Harry. 

A gasp escaped her lips when she noticed it was a voice note. It was a long time since she had heard Harry's voice. 

She reached into her bag for her headphones and pulled out the tangled mess. Suddenly a crackling sound and the heavy rain pouring in the background began to play. She waited until she could hear the gentle strum of a guitar and Harry's voice flooding her ears as he began to sing. 

There was something so comforting about his voice and a part of her felt ignited by the pure vulnerability in his voice as he sang. "Sorry, okay bye." He mumbled at the end of the voice note. 

She laughed and immediately began to type out a message. 

Y/N: It's beautiful. 

Harry: I miss you Y/N.

Her heart stuttered from the simple text message. 

Y/N: I miss you too Harry. 

July 20th 2018

"Here let me take that for you." Harry grabbed her bag and slung it over his shoulder, "I'll show you up to your room.”

"It's...big." Y/N looked at the home Harry had in Italy with his family. 

He chuckled, "You could say that."

He was in awe that she was here with him in Italy. He had invited her out when she told him she'd never been abroad before despite having a passport. After asking his mother, he bought her a cheap flight over to the Amalfi Coast and set up the guest bedroom, buying her candles and things from the nearest grocery shop.

"Do you love her?" Anne smirked whilst she stood at the door with her arms crossed, watching her son put face masks into what would be Y/N's bathroom drawer.

"No," He shakes his head. "No, I don't." 

"Okay." She said but wasn't assured by his answer.

Harry placed her bags on the double bed and gave her time to take in the house. "Is your mum home?" She wondered. 

"No, she and Astrid went to the market," Harry said.

"I can see the sea." She looked past him, out the window. 

"That's funny, since you arrived all I can see is you." He whispers, looking into her eyes. She didn't have to tell him she agreed because he already knew. 

Things between them had changed over the last month and they both knew it. Since Harry sent the song over to her, things between them were different. They spent the majority of their nights sleeping late and having deep conversations over the phone. Harry now knew more about her than anyone ever did and she knew even more about him. 

They hadn't kissed since the night they first met and Harry would be lying if he said he didn't think about it still. 

"Harry, come down and help us with the groceries!" His mother called from the kitchen. 

Y/N followed Harry down the steps where his mother and sister were. "Harry!" Astrid squealed, the six year old leaping into his arms. 

"Hey, Astrid." He smiles, putting her down afterwards and walking over to his mother. 

"Oh goodness, you must be Y/N! Harry has told us so much about you." Anne grins and goes over to hug Y/N. 

"It's nice to meet you," Y/N spoke, shyly. 

"Hi," Astrid grinned, one of her teeth missing. 

"Hi Astrid, it's nice to meet you." Y/N grinned. 

"You're pretty." Astrid hides behind Harry as she speaks. 

Harry and Anne laugh, "Why don't you take Y/N down to our beach? It's a wonderful day outside." 

"Sure," Harry nodded, putting the milk in the fridge. 

Harry led Y/N back to her room so she could get dressed into her bathing suit. "You don't have to come with us if you don't want to. You're probably tired."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Y/N asked, pulling out her swimsuit from her backpack.

"I want you to be everywhere." He smiles softly. 

She bites back a grin, "Give me a second." 

Harry walks back in once he puts his swim shorts on and halts his movements when he notices Y/N standing in front of the mirror putting suncream on. Her hair was tied back and she had removed her makeup from her face. She was wearing a black, one piece swimming costume. He could see the curve of her hips and her breasts and watched as she applied sun cream to her bare arms and legs. He didn't want to stare too long but he couldn't help but revel in the beauty of her. 

"I'm ready." She smiles, covering her body with a towel. 

"Cool." Harry gulps. 

. . .

"It's cold." Y/N shivers when she walks further into the ocean. 

"It feels good." Harry smiles, walking out into the sea. 

They stood facing each other in the middle of the ocean. "Your family seems nice,"

"They're alright," He couldn't stop looking at her. 

I really want to kiss you right now. He thought but tried to contain himself.

"Have you written any more songs?" She asks. 

"A few, I was inspired you could say."

"By who?" She wonders. 

Before he could reply, a wave knocked into them both. Y/N lost her balance and slipped underwater but Harry just managed to grab her waist and hold her before she was able to drift away. 

They both started laughing, Harry's hands were on her waist the entire time as they smiled at each other. 

"Are you going to kiss me?" Y/N wonders, Harry's breath catching in his throat, "At the party you had the same look in your eye when we were in the closet."

"Do you want me to kiss you?" He asks.

"I always want you to kiss me, Harry." She says. 

He scoffs, smiling, "You can't say that you know." 

"Why not?" She bites her lip.

"Because then I'll just have to kiss you all the time." 

"I always want you to kiss me, Harry." She whispers again this time in his ear, arms around his neck and legs around his waist. 

Harry shakily exhaled and leaned his head forward. He had thought of this moment for months since the first time they met and he didn't think it would happen for a while. Y/N had told him all the things Shaun had done to her during their short relationship and he knew it would affect her for a while once they had broken up. 

She kissed his shoulder, the saltiness of the water on the tip of her tongue, before she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. 

Harry whimpered like he had been in desperate need of her this whole time and he was finally getting what he wanted. His hands were everywhere as he tried to hold her in the ocean, she pushed his wet hair back and cupped his cheeks. 

"Y/N," He whispered over and over again, "I'd never be like him, I hope you know that."

She said nothing, just smiled and kissed him again and again and again and again. 

August 3rd 2018

"Do you think I'm a good writer?" Y/N asked, her bare chest pressed against Harry's as she finally caught her breath from opening up to him in a way only he was allowed to see. 

"I think you're a wonderful writer." He hums, releasing her hair from her messy ponytail so he could massage her scalp with his fingertips.

"Really?" She smiled up at him, he felt a tight feeling in his stomach at the sight of it.

"Yes." He kissed her sweaty forehead.

"I think you'd be a good musician." She played with his fingers. 

"Thank you." He wasn't sure what to say besides that. He knew she had faith in him, sometimes too much. 

"Harry," She started. She moved to sit up, she was naked and slouched over but it didn't phase him one bit, he liked seeing her naked, it was possibly one of his favourite things. "Y' know you're my best friend right?"

"I know that," He nods. "You tell me every day."

"I think I might be in love with you." She confesses, a sigh of relief escaping her.

"I know I'm in love with you." He admits, he'd never told anyone he loved them besides his mother and sister but with Y/N it felt different. He felt as though he was opening a part of himself that had always been locked and only she knew how to open it.

"So we love each other?" She crawls over to him, falling beside him and lying on her back, her head lolling to the side to look at him. 

His hand goes to her tummy and he rubs his thumb up and down, "We love each other." His hand slowly creeps lower. 

"Can we have sex again?" She asks, biting her lip.

He loved the way her cheeks flushed when she spoke about doing intimate things with her. Her eyes would turn a darker shade and the hairs on her arms would stand on end. 

"Y'never have to ask." He murmured and kissed her everywhere.

January 30th 2022

Harry and Y/N moved in together when they graduated. It was an easy decision and they didn't regret it one bit. 

"Morning baby," Harry hummed, kissing her shoulder and handing her a mug of coffee. She was wearing a shawl and a lace bra with his boxer shorts and he made sure to take a mental picture of her right this moment. 

"Morning handsome." She whispered, tired and achy from being at her computer for a second day in a row. 

Y/N was a writer or at least trying to be one. She was currently signed to a literary agent and was attempting to get a book published. She'd been spending the last few days going through the edits she'd been sent from her first draft. 

He placed two hands on her shoulders and rubbed his thumbs into them, massaging her shoulders and easing some of the tension. "I'm going to the studio today, wrote a few songs last night." 

"You did?" She grinned, her head turning to look up at him, "Will I get to hear them first?" 

"You know you will. You always get to listen to them first you know that." He chuckles, leaning down to kiss her. 

He rubbed his thumbs under her tired eyes as he cupped her cheeks, "Get some sleep darling, please." 

"Can I have a kiss first?" She pouts, her eyes gazing up at him.

He snickered and kissed her the same way he did when he first met her, leaving her in a daze as he left her in the kitchen and walked out of the house to get to the studio. 

"I think I want to marry her," Harry spoke aloud, his friend Mitch turning to him.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I want to marry her." 

"Good for you, man. She's good for you." He gives him a friendly pat on the back. 

Harry drove home with a memory stick sitting in the passenger seat of his car. He also had an engagement ring in his back pocket that he picked up on his way home. It was cheap and fake, costing him just thirty pounds, but he planned on buying her a new one when he sold some of his demos to other artists. 

When he walked through the door, he noticed Y/N was no longer at her computer. He walked into the lounge and saw her passed out on the sofa, a loaf of bread was on the coffee table with a tub of butter and a knife stuck into it. 

He sat down beside her, and she stirred. "Hi baby," He stroked her hair out of her face.

"You're home." She hummed, grabbing his hand and holding it to her chest with her eyes still shut.

"Come to bed, my love." He keeps his voice down when he speaks to her. 

"But I want to hear your music." Sleep weighed heavy in her voice. 

"Y' can hear it tomorrow darling, let's go to bed." He picks her up and cradles her in his arms as he carries her up the stairs. 

"Love you," She whispers as he lays her in bed and covers her in the blanket. 

"Love you too." He grins, lazily and crawls into bed next to her, holding her tightly. 

September 16th 2024

He's never felt pain like this.

"Where is she?" He gripped onto her mother's shoulders, looking at her with pleading eyes. 

He had rushed to the hospital, cancelling his show last minute since he was touring with the band he had written songs for. They invited him at the last minute to be the opening act for their show and he accepted despite his homesickness and desire to stay with Y/N.

"Mr Styles?" A nurse approaches with a doctor beside her. 

"Is she okay? What's going on?" He was tired before he got the phone call but now he was wide awake and wasn't planning on getting sleep anytime soon. 

"Mr Styles, we're going to need you to take a seat." The Doctor places a hand on his shoulder but he brushes it off, growing frustrated. 

"Please, just tell me what's going on." 

A sigh leaves the doctor's lips, "Miss Y/L/N has had to have emergency brain surgery."

"W-What?" He froze, unsure how to process it all.

"We found a tumour in her brain that we've had to remove, the cancer is still there but-"

He blocked out the doctor's words after that, all he seemed to hear were the words 'surgery' and 'cancer'. Y/N had cancer. 

"C-Can I see her?" He had tears rolling down his cheeks. 

"She's asleep but you can go in and see her." The Doctor nods and turns to the nurse, giving her instructions. 

Everything blurred and moved in slow motion as he walked down the corridors to Y/N's room. He couldn't believe what was happening and whether or not it was real but the pain coursing through him was enough to tell him that his life had taken a turn for the worst. 

"We'll leave you alone." The nurse nods. 

Harry saw Y/N lying in the hospital bed with wires coming out of her and a bandage wrapped around her head. 

"No baby." He shook his head, "No, no, no." He walked forward and fell to his knees in front of her. 

He gripped her hand and squeezed tight, sobbing as he tried to think up ways to help her, to trade places, to take all the pain she was feeling and consume it himself. 

"You'll be fine," He whispered, kissing her cheek, "You'll be okay." All the while twisting the cheap engagement ring he had given to her before he left to tour. 

It wasn't the most extravagant engagement but it was perfect for them. Harry had taken Y/N camping for the first time but they soon realised they both hated it. It didn't help that it was pouring with rain and the tent had a hole in it. 

So, they ditched the tent and bought a cheap motel room. They had dinner at a restaurant opposite the petrol station where the food wasn't too good but they had to beat soft serve ice cream. 

Harry asked the question after they had sex in their motel room. A tangled, sweaty mess and in a haze, he just blurted out the question to which she immediately said yes and broke down crying because she loved him so much.

Later on, Y/N woke up in the evening with Harry sitting awake beside her. 

"H-Harry," She mumbled, her eyes fluttering open and close. She was very tired. 

"Hey darling," He crouched down in front of her so he was eye level with her, "M right here."

His voice always soothed her, since the very first day they met, "I'm sick aren't I?" She tears up. 

He slowly nods his head, "But you'll get better."

She wasn't so sure.

December 1st 2024

"Can we go to Italy to get married?" Y/N asked, sitting at the windowsill with a book. She was wearing a headscarf over her hairless head as the sun shone through the window. 

Harry thought she looked beautiful.

"I thought you wanted to get married here at home?" He wondered, they both wanted something simple so planned their wedding reception to be at their house in the back garden. 

She placed her book down and stood up on shaky legs. She was getting thinner the more they did chemotherapy, sometimes she could barely hold her head up from exhaustion but she was fighting her way through it all. 

She climbed onto Harry's lap who was sitting at the table writing music. "I want to go to Italy for Christmas and get married."

Harry chuckles, "I don't think people will be happy if we do all that last minute, it'll cost a lot too." 

She shakes her head, a cheeky grin on her face, "I just want it to be us two." 

He thought about it. He knew how much their families meant to the both of them and how important it was for them to be there but he couldn't lie if he said the thought didn't tempt him.

 "What about our parents?" He asked.

"Well I assume they'd be upset for a while but they'll get over it. We can have a party in the back garden just like we originally planned." She snaked her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder, he could tell she was getting tired. 

"When would you want to leave for Italy?" He wonders and she knew she had persuaded him. 

"Tomorrow." 

December 3rd 2024

They got married where they kissed on the beach. 

Y/N was rushed to the hospital in the evening. 

May 22nd 2025

Harry was alone. 

He stood in front of the mirror adjusting his tie and tried his best not to get emotional. 

He hadn't seen her in a while but he hoped she was giving him some reassurance wherever she was.

"My boy," Anne walked in, wearing a sleek dress, "You look so handsome." 

She adjusted the lapels of his suit and cupped his cheeks, a bittersweet look on her face, "They're waiting for you." 

He nodded, glanced one last time at the mirror and exhaled. 

People were already standing in the pews of the church, some were already crying as he walked to the end of the aisle. He turned around and took a heavy breath, his hands shaky. 

"You've got this," Mitch whispered, reassuringly. 

Suddenly everyone stood up as the music began to play, waiting for the love of his life to turn the corner. 

Y/N beat cancer on Harry's birthday this year. 

He cried tears of joy and they celebrated by ordering two ice cream cakes and eating them both with just two spoons and Mamma Mia playing in the background. 

They decided they wanted to get married again with a proper ceremony since their wedding in Italy was slightly tainted by the fact she had to go to hospital. Their mothers were also adamant they had another wedding they could actually attend. 

He held his breath when she walked out in a beautiful, white dress. It was a tight fitted, mermaid dress with an open back. She was adamant about having a tight fitted dress so she could see how bloated her belly got with the buffet they had for the reception. With the chemo, she couldn't stomach a lot of food but now all she wanted to do was eat and Harry loved it. 

His eyes began to water as she walked down the aisle on her own. She didn't want anyone to walk her down the aisle because she didn't like the idea of someone giving her away. No one was giving her away because she had always been Harry's right from the beginning.

"You may now kiss the bride!" Everyone cheered as the Officiant announced it. 

Y/N leaned forward and smiled, tears down her face, "Should we make out?" She whispered. 

"Most definitely." Harry smiled and it was the happiest he had ever been in his life. 

October 1st 2027

Welcome to the world, little Matilda. 

You came into this world with sun beams coming out of you and we haven't seen the rain since.

Your mother is currently asleep and I haven't got the heart to wake her up. She never ceases to amaze me with how strong she is and I've promised her months of rest since all you seemed to do was wake her up in the night with your tiny toes and little fingers pressing against her belly. 

I've loved your mother for ten whole years now and it just adds to your perfection that you were born on the day we met. 

On the day we met, I was awkward and shy and hated people which makes no sense since we were at a party. I had no intention of meeting your mother but she was there and I thought she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. 

Don't worry Matilda, you are half your mother and will be just as pretty as she is. 

She was my first kiss, the first person I opened up to and the only person I wanted to spend my life with.

Except now we have you and my world before these ten years seems non-existent. 

I love you Matilda and no matter how much I say I love you, I will always love you more than that. 

You have my green eyes and your mother's little nose. I can already tell you have the imagination of your mother because you were grabbing at my fingers last night and making noises with a smile on your face. 

I promise to raise you with as much love as I have given your mother and I know your mother will love as hard as she loves me. Our house will be filled with nothing but love for you Matilda and I hope you hold onto that and carry it with you wherever you go. 

You will always be the light in our lives from now on my sweet Matilda. 

"Is she awake?" Y/N murmurs, eyes still shut.

"No, she's sleeping." Harry looks down at the little girl in his arms. 

"I can't believe we made her Harry." She smiles, cheeks pink, reminding him of the time they first met. 

It did amaze him how the person they created together was a product of their love. He didn't really think it possible to hold love in his hands until he held Matilda for the first time. 

"I love you, Harry." She whispers, holding his hand. 

"I love you too." He sighs, feeling utter bliss.

He would do it all again, he thought, the ups and downs and in-betweens, he'd do it all. 

Everything with you.