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Homesick for the Home We Made| A. Fantilli

Summary: Adam and Y/N have been inseparable since their college days at UMich, bound by a love that grew through the late nights, laughter, and unwavering support. Now, as Adam begins his professional hockey career with the Columbus Blue Jackets, their relationship faces new trials. From navigating the pressures of the NHL, the relentless spotlight, and the strain of long-distance travel, to coping with injuries and doubts, they fight to stay connected amidst the demands of his rising fame.

Word Count: 8986

University of Michigan, 2022

The nights they spent in the library became their little ritual, a comforting constant amid their busy college lives. Adam’s schedule was intense, between morning practices, back-to-back classes, and late-night studying, yet he’d always make time to meet her there, settling into their usual corner by the large window that overlooked campus. Tonight, like every night, he’d saved her a seat, draping his hoodie over the chair beside him so she’d know he was waiting.

When she arrived, a warm feeling washed over her, seeing him so intently focused, tapping a pen against his notebook. His brow was furrowed in concentration, jaw set in that familiar way, yet the moment he saw her, his face softened, a grin spreading across his face.

“Hey, you,” he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders as she sat down, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Missed you.”

She laughed, leaning into his side. “We were together this morning. You really missed me already?”

“More than you know,” he murmured, squeezing her shoulder. There was always something about him—a quiet warmth and sweetness that made her feel like she was the only thing in his world, even when he was balancing a million different pressures. He set his pen down, focusing his attention entirely on her, and she couldn’t help but smile.

They worked side by side for a while, falling into the easy rhythm they had developed over the months, sharing notes and sneaking little glances at each other. Occasionally, Adam would steal a quick kiss, his smile making her heart skip. It was these little moments that made her realize just how deeply she had fallen for him—the quiet understanding, the silent support, the shared smiles.

As they walked back to his dorm under the glow of the campus streetlights, a comfortable silence fell between them. The autumn air was crisp, and she felt Adam’s fingers tighten around hers, as if grounding her in that moment.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, stopping them both. She turned to face him, surprised by the sudden intensity in his gaze. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something.”

She felt her heartbeat quicken as he looked at her, the seriousness in his eyes sending a shiver down her spine. “What is it?”

He took a deep breath, glancing down before meeting her gaze again. “Y/N, I know we’re both young, and we don’t have everything figured out, but…I know I want this. I know I want you, in my life, no matter what.”

His words were a revelation, each one grounding her in a reality she’d hoped for but hadn’t dared to expect. She looked up at him, a soft smile breaking across her face as she felt a surge of affection. “Adam, I feel the same way,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “You mean everything to me.”

He pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her in a hug that felt like a promise. She could feel his heartbeat against her, steady and reassuring. After a moment, he pulled back, looking down at her with a tenderness that made her heart ache.

“Let’s go inside,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of excitement and vulnerability.

As soon as they closed the door, Adam’s hands found her waist, pulling her into a kiss that was soft at first but grew with an intensity neither of them could ignore. His hands traveled up her sides, sending a thrill through her, and she felt herself melt into him, her fingers tangling in his hair.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his breath warm against her neck as he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers.

She nodded, her voice steady. “I’ve never been more sure.”

In that quiet room, they explored each other, savoring every touch, every kiss, as if they were making a silent promise to be there, to love each other no matter what life would throw at them. They moved together in a way that felt effortless, their bodies communicating a desire and trust that words could never capture. And when they finally lay side by side, wrapped in each other’s arms, she knew this was a memory she would carry with her always.

The room was filled with the quiet hum of their breathing as they drifted into sleep, the campus lights casting a warm glow through the window. Adam held her close, his fingers tracing light circles along her back as she rested her head on his chest.

“Stay with me tonight,” he whispered, his voice filled with a vulnerable hope.

She smiled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Summer 2023, NHL Draft Day

The months flew by, and suddenly, it was draft season. Adam’s nerves were palpable, but he tried to hide them behind his usual smile, his arms wrapped around her as they waited for his name to be called. The night was electric with excitement, but beneath it, she could feel his tension, the anticipation of everything they had worked toward coming down to this single moment.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly, squeezing his hand. She could see the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, and it made her heart ache.

He nodded, flashing her a smile. “Yeah, just…a lot of pressure,” he admitted, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a calming rhythm. “But having you here…that makes all the difference.”

She smiled, leaning up to kiss him gently, trying to convey every ounce of love and belief she had in him. “You’ve got this. No matter where you go, you’re going to do incredible things.”

The moment his name was called, the room erupted into applause. She watched him, pride swelling in her chest as he hugged his family and friends, giving her a last, lingering look before making his way to the stage. It was a look that said everything he couldn’t put into words—a promise, a silent thank you, a reminder that she was part of this journey with him.

As the night wound down and the crowd thinned, Adam pulled her aside, his expression turning serious. They found a quiet corner, away from the noise, the celebration, and he took her hands, looking down at them as if collecting his thoughts.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” he began, his voice soft, laced with a nervous vulnerability. “But I don’t want to do this without you.”

Her breath hitched as she realized the weight of his words, the unspoken question hanging between them.

“Adam,” she said, her voice shaking slightly, “are you saying…?”

He nodded, meeting her gaze. “Come with me. Move with me to Columbus. I don’t want us to be apart—I want us to figure this out together.”

Her heart skipped a beat, a mixture of excitement and fear welling up inside her. It was a big decision, a huge leap into an uncertain future, but as she looked into his eyes, she knew there was only one answer.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice filled with a quiet certainty. “I’m with you. Wherever you go, I’m right there.”

They held each other tightly, both of them feeling the enormity of what lay ahead. But in that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, they felt an unshakeable confidence—a shared certainty that, together, they could face whatever challenges would come their way.

Later that night, in the quiet of the hotel room, they shared a moment that felt sacred. Their kisses were slower, deeper, filled with the promise of everything they had committed to. Adam’s hands were tender as they explored her, memorizing every inch of her skin, his touch full of reverence.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and a hint of nervousness.

She nodded, her eyes meeting his. “Absolutely. I love you, Adam.”

He smiled, his hand cupping her cheek. “I love you too, Y/N. More than you’ll ever know.”

As they lay together afterward, tangled in each other’s arms, she felt a profound sense of peace. It was as if the entire world had shrunk down to this single room, to the quiet of their breathing, to the warmth of his body beside her. They had made a promise tonight—a commitment to face the future together, to stay by each other’s side, no matter what. And in that moment, she knew there was nothing they couldn’t face as long as they had each other.

Columbus, Ohio – Fall 2023

Moving to Columbus was a whirlwind for both of them. The new city buzzed with excitement for Adam’s arrival, and the Blue Jackets fan base was thrilled to welcome their young prospect. The city had a new energy, one that felt vibrant and alive, as Adam settled into his role on the team.

Adam and Y/N found a modest, cozy apartment downtown, close enough to the rink for his practices but far enough that they could enjoy some quiet time together. The place was small, but it was theirs, and they spent the first few weeks transforming the bare walls and empty spaces into something that felt like home.

Boxes were everywhere as they unpacked, laughing and bickering playfully over where things should go. Adam insisted on keeping his signed rookie stick leaning in the corner of the living room, while she countered with a set of cozy throw pillows she’d found on a shopping trip. Every little detail was a negotiation, filled with laughter and eye rolls that melted into shared smiles.

“You know,” she teased one night, standing in the kitchen with her hands on her hips, “if you’d let me put those curtains up instead of keeping that blanket over the window, this place might actually start looking like a real apartment.”

Adam grinned, tossing a pillow onto the couch before walking over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “You saying my decorating skills aren’t good enough?” he asked, nuzzling her neck.

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “I’m saying you’re better at scoring goals than picking out curtains.”

He pulled her closer, his voice dropping. “And which one of those is most important to you?”

Her cheeks warmed as she looked up at him, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Guess it depends on the context,” she murmured, her voice softening as their gazes locked.

The warmth in his eyes turned into something deeper, and he leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, filled with a mixture of tenderness and longing. His hands slipped to her waist, pulling her closer, and she felt herself melt into him, their bodies pressed together as if they were one.

They spent the rest of the night tangled together, exploring every inch of their new space in a way that made it feel truly theirs. It was as if each touch, each kiss, each whispered word was imprinting memories into the walls, filling the empty spaces with moments only they would know.

The honeymoon period of settling into the new apartment soon gave way to the challenges of Adam’s grueling schedule. Training camps, team practices, media obligations—it was a new rhythm, and it pulled him away from her more often than either of them had anticipated. Early mornings turned into long days at the rink, and by the time Adam got home, he was exhausted, barely able to muster up the energy for anything other than collapsing onto the couch.

At first, she tried to ignore the pang of loneliness that crept in during the quiet hours she spent alone in their apartment, filling her days with work, exploring the city, and calling friends from Michigan. But as the weeks went by, she couldn’t shake the feeling of missing him, even when he was right there beside her.

One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, Adam came home, dropping his bag by the door with a tired sigh. She could see the weariness etched into his face, his usual spark dulled by exhaustion. He offered her a faint smile as he kicked off his shoes, heading straight for the couch.

She sat down beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Long day?”

He nodded, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “You have no idea. I mean, I knew the NHL was going to be intense, but this… it’s next level.” His voice was low, almost defeated, and it tugged at her heart.

“Hey,” she said softly, rubbing his shoulder. “You don’t have to be perfect all the time. You’re allowed to be tired, Adam. It’s a lot to handle.”

He turned to look at her, his eyes softening as he took her hand, pulling her into his lap. “Thanks, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

They sat together in comfortable silence, her fingers brushing through his hair as he leaned his head against her shoulder. Slowly, she felt his breathing even out, and she realized he’d fallen asleep, his arms still wrapped around her. She smiled to herself, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

The following morning, she woke up to find him already gone, his side of the bed cold, a note on the nightstand that read: Couldn’t wake you. Wanted you to sleep in. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Miss you already.

It was the kind of note that left her heart aching in the best way, but also reminded her of the distance that had crept between them, even in their shared space.

Despite the challenges, they found ways to make it work, weaving small routines into the chaos. She’d pack his lunch, slipping little notes into his bag—inside jokes, or silly sketches of the two of them—that he’d find in between drills. And on nights when he got home early enough, they’d cook together, laughing as they danced around the kitchen, turning the simplest tasks into cherished rituals.

One night, they were attempting to make pasta—a meal that turned into a bit of a disaster when Adam managed to overcook the noodles. He looked at the pot with a mixture of defeat and confusion.

“Who knew pasta could be so difficult?” he groaned, looking over at her with a sheepish grin.

She laughed, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “It’s okay. You might be terrible at cooking, but you’re still my favorite person.”

He turned around, pulling her into a hug. “Yeah? Even when I mess up pasta?”

“Especially when you mess up pasta,” she replied, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

They ended up ordering takeout, curling up on the couch as they ate, laughing over the mess they’d left in the kitchen. It was moments like these, filled with warmth and laughter, that reminded them both of why they were doing this—of the love that had brought them together and continued to hold them close, even through the difficult days.

One Friday evening, after a particularly intense game, Adam returned home, his energy still buzzing from the win. She greeted him at the door with a warm smile, feeling her own excitement swell as he swept her up into his arms, spinning her around.

“We won, babe!” he said, his grin infectious. “I can’t believe it—it was insane! I thought we were done for in the third period, but we pulled it off.”

She laughed, holding onto him as he set her down, his arms still wrapped around her. “I’m so proud of you, Adam. You were amazing out there.”

His eyes softened, and he pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers. “Couldn’t have done it without knowing you’re here, waiting for me,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity.

In that moment, she felt her heart swell with love, the struggles and loneliness of the past few weeks fading away as they held each other. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was soft at first, filled with a mixture of gratitude and longing. But soon, the kiss deepened, fueled by the passion that had been simmering beneath the surface.

They moved together to the bedroom, his hands exploring her as if he were memorizing every inch of her. Their kisses were slow and deliberate, each touch a reminder of the love they shared, the commitment they’d made to each other. They undressed slowly, savoring the intimacy, the connection that felt so much deeper after the time they’d spent apart.

Afterward, they lay tangled in each other’s arms, their breaths mingling as they whispered to each other in the quiet darkness. He told her about the game, sharing the small details he usually kept to himself—the nerves, the pressure, the way he’d thought of her during every break. And she listened, feeling closer to him than ever before, her fingers tracing light patterns along his chest.

As the night wore on, they drifted into a peaceful sleep, feeling a renewed sense of connection. For the first time in weeks, they both felt truly at home.

The next morning, she woke up to the smell of coffee and the sound of soft music coming from the kitchen. She padded out of the bedroom, smiling when she found him standing by the stove, humming along to the song as he cooked.

“Look who’s trying to make up for last night’s pasta disaster,” she teased, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.

He laughed, turning around to kiss her. “I figured breakfast was the least I could do,” he said, grinning as he handed her a cup of coffee.

They spent the morning together, sharing a quiet breakfast, laughing and talking about their plans for the weekend. It was a simple, unremarkable moment, but to both of them, it felt like a little slice of happiness—a reminder of why they were doing this, and how much they meant to each other.

As they sat there, her hand in his, she felt a sense of contentment

Columbus, Ohio – Winter 2023

As the season progressed, Adam’s name began to pop up more frequently in the media. Headlines praised his impressive rookie performance, and clips of his plays trended on social media almost every week. Fans posted nonstop about his potential, and interviews with him were filled with questions about his goals and his future with the Blue Jackets. At first, it was exhilarating for both of them. Watching him on the ice, seeing how the city celebrated his success, made her heart swell with pride.

But as his fame grew, so did the pressures and the expectations. More demands on his time left him exhausted and often distracted. Nights out were frequently interrupted by fans wanting photos, or journalists eager for a quote, which Adam always handled with a smile, never wanting to disappoint anyone. She admired his dedication, but she began to feel as if they were sharing less and less of their world together.

One evening, after a particularly demanding week, they went out for dinner, hoping to carve out some time just for the two of them. But even in the cozy, dimly lit restaurant they’d chosen, whispers followed them, and a few fans approached their table.

“Hey, Adam, big fans—would you mind signing something for us?” one of them asked, an excited look on her face. Adam glanced at Y/N apologetically, but she gave him a small nod, urging him to go ahead.

He returned to their table after a few minutes, reaching for her hand, his face slightly flushed. “Sorry about that,” he murmured, his thumb tracing over her knuckles. “Guess this comes with the territory.”

She managed a small smile, but there was a twinge of something she couldn’t ignore—something that felt like loneliness. “It’s okay,” she said, keeping her tone light. “I’m just still getting used to sharing you with everyone.”

He looked at her, his expression softening as he realized the weight of her words. “You’ll never have to share me, Y/N. Not really. You know that, right?”

She forced a nod, but a part of her couldn’t ignore the growing fear that, eventually, the world might take too much of him. She squeezed his hand, trying to push the thought away. “I know,” she whispered, hoping she sounded more certain than she felt.

As the season wore on, the distance between them felt less like an occasional inconvenience and more like a permanent shadow that loomed over their relationship. Adam was constantly traveling for away games, and even when he was home, his mind was often preoccupied with training or strategies. The rare moments they did spend together were often late at night, with him collapsing into bed beside her, exhausted, barely able to keep his eyes open as he murmured a sleepy “Goodnight.”

One evening, she finally couldn’t keep it bottled up any longer. They were sitting on the couch, him scrolling through his phone, catching up on game footage, when she spoke.

“Adam,” she began, her voice quiet but steady. He looked up, noticing the serious expression on her face.

“Yeah?” He set his phone down, his attention fully on her.

She took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I just…I miss us. I feel like we’re always together, but I’m not really with you. Not the way we used to be.”

A flicker of guilt crossed his face, and he reached for her hand. “Y/N…I know it’s been tough. I feel it too. I don’t want you to feel like I’m drifting away. I’m just trying to keep up with everything, you know? The team, the media, the expectations…it’s all so much.”

Her heart softened, and she placed her hand on his cheek, her thumb brushing over his skin. “I know, and I’m so proud of you. But I need you too. Not the player, not the celebrity—just you.”

He pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her as he pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re my whole world, Y/N. I don’t want to lose us in all of this.”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him close. “Then let’s make time for each other. Even if it’s just little moments. I don’t want us to get lost in the noise.”

They sat like that for a long time, wrapped in each other’s warmth, a silent agreement passing between them. They promised each other that, no matter what, they would find ways to stay connected, to hold onto the love that had brought them together in the first place.

A few weeks later, Adam surprised her with a weekend getaway. He booked a small cabin an hour outside the city, nestled in the woods, where they could disconnect from the world and just be together.

As they drove up to the cabin, she felt a thrill of excitement, the tension of the past few months melting away. The cabin was cozy, with a fireplace crackling in the corner, and a view of the snow-covered trees outside. They spent the first day simply enjoying each other’s company, cooking together, sharing stories, and laughing like they hadn’t in months.

That night, as they sat by the fire, wrapped in blankets, he pulled her close, his fingers tracing light patterns along her arm. “I missed this,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of tenderness. “I missed just being with you, away from everything else.”

She looked up at him, her heart swelling with love. “Me too,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him. The kiss was slow, unhurried, as if they had all the time in the world. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her onto his lap as he deepened the kiss, their breaths mingling in the quiet warmth of the room.

They moved together with a renewed passion, savoring each touch, each whisper. It felt like a rediscovery of everything they loved about each other, a reminder of the connection that went beyond the demands of his career. They undressed slowly, their bodies pressed together as they explored each other, the intimacy of the moment grounding them in a way that nothing else could.

Afterward, they lay tangled in each other’s arms, the glow of the fire casting a warm light across the room. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling a peace she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I love you,” he whispered, his fingers brushing through her hair. “More than anything. Thank you for being here, for sticking with me through all of this.”

She smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I love you too, Adam. Always.”

They drifted into a peaceful sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, knowing that, no matter how tough things got, they would always find their way back to each other.

The weekend away renewed their strength, but as they returned to Columbus, the pressures of Adam’s career quickly crept back in. Yet, this time, they both held onto the memory of the cabin, the quiet promises they’d made to each other. They made an effort to carve out little moments—a morning coffee shared in comfortable silence, a late-night drive to clear their heads, a quiet dinner in their favorite restaurant where they could be just two people in love.

One evening, as they sat on the couch after another long day, she rested her head on his shoulder, feeling a sense of contentment she hadn’t felt in months.

“Do you ever wonder if it’ll get easier?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He looked down at her, a gentle smile on his face. “Sometimes. But even if it doesn’t, I know we’ll get through it. We’re in this together, right?”

She smiled, her fingers lacing with his. “Always.”

In that moment, she knew that, no matter how intense the pressures of his career became, no matter how many obstacles they faced, they would find a way to hold onto each other. They were each other’s constant, the quiet strength that carried them through the noise and chaos. And in the end, that was all they needed.

Later that night, as they lay in bed, Adam pulled her close, his hands tracing light circles along her back. “Thank you for being my rock,” he murmured, his voice filled with warmth. “For always understanding, even when I’m not around as much as I want to be.”

She looked up at him, her heart swelling with love. “You’re worth it, Adam. Every second.”

He leaned down, capturing her lips in a slow, tender kiss, filled with all the gratitude and love he couldn’t put into words. They moved together, their bodies fitting perfectly, each touch a reminder of the promises they had made to each other. In the quiet darkness, they shared a connection that went beyond words, a love that was steadfast and unbreakable.

As they lay together afterward, wrapped in each other’s arms, she felt a renewed sense of peace, a quiet certainty that, no matter where life took them, they would always find their way back to each other.

Michigan and Beyond – Summer 2024

The off-season finally arrived, and with it came a long-awaited break from the demands and pressures of the NHL. For the first time in months, Adam didn’t have to rush off to practices, interviews, or endless travel. He was just…Adam, the guy she’d fallen in love with back in college, and for a few precious months, they were able to live without a schedule dictating every hour of their day.

It was late June when they decided to visit Michigan, eager to revisit the place where their journey began. The drive back was filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated by laughter and the occasional off-key singing as they played their favorite songs from their college days. The familiar landscape rolled by, the roads bringing back memories of late-night drives, coffee runs, and spontaneous adventures.

When they arrived, the University of Michigan campus was quieter, the summer break leaving the buildings mostly empty. They parked the car and walked hand-in-hand through the familiar paths, the air filled with nostalgia.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Adam asked, glancing down at her with a soft smile. “I couldn’t even focus on practice that day. My teammates gave me so much grief for being distracted.”

She laughed, nudging him playfully. “I remember you nearly walked into a door because you were staring at me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Hey, I couldn’t help it. You looked…amazing. Still do.”

They wandered around the campus, revisiting their favorite spots—the library where they’d spent countless nights studying together, the little café where they had their first date, the rink where she’d cheered him on at every game. Each place held a memory, and they spent hours reminiscing, sharing stories and laughing at all the little things that had brought them together.

That evening, they drove out to a secluded lake where they had often gone during their college years to escape the world for a while. The sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow over the water, and the quiet of the place wrapped around them like a comforting blanket.

Adam spread out a blanket on the shore, and they lay side by side, watching the sky transform from soft pinks and oranges to deep purples and blues. He reached for her hand, lacing his fingers with hers, and she looked over at him, her heart swelling with love.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft and thoughtful, “coming back here with you… It reminds me of how lucky I am to have you in my life. I don’t say it enough, but I don’t know where I’d be without you, Y/N.”

She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, her heart fluttering at his words. “Adam, I feel the same way. Being here with you, away from everything else, it’s like…this is how it’s supposed to be. Just us.”

They shared a long, lingering kiss, their bodies pressed close as the cool evening breeze rustled around them. There was something grounding about being in that familiar place, surrounded by nature, with nothing but each other. They moved together in the fading light, every touch filled with tenderness, every kiss a promise of the love they’d built and the future they would share.

They spent the night lying on the blanket, watching the stars, talking about their dreams, their fears, and their plans for the future. It was a rare, cherished moment, the kind that only came when time seemed to stand still, and they could simply be together, with no demands or expectations.

The next day, they set out on a road trip across Michigan, stopping at small towns, scenic overlooks, and quirky little roadside attractions. The freedom of the open road was exhilarating, and they filled the trip with laughter, silly selfies, and spontaneous detours.

At one point, they stopped at a little antique shop in a small town, where she found a vintage record player she’d always dreamed of having. Adam insisted on buying it for her, despite her protests.

“Come on, it’s perfect for our apartment,” he said with a grin, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “And we’ll fill it with all our favorite records.”

She rolled her eyes, but her heart warmed at the gesture. “You’re spoiling me, you know that?”

He shrugged, a playful smile on his lips. “Well, you deserve to be spoiled.”

They ended up spending half the day exploring the shop, picking out records and laughing over the quirky finds. It was a small, simple moment, but it felt like a piece of happiness, one of those memories that would stay with them long after the road trip was over.

Their last night in Michigan, they decided to revisit their favorite college bar—a little dive just off campus where they had spent countless nights with friends, celebrating wins and commiserating over losses. They ordered their usual drinks, laughing as they slipped back into the carefree atmosphere of their college days.

The bar was filled with students, and a few of them recognized Adam, offering congratulations on his success with the Blue Jackets. He smiled, thanking them graciously, but he kept his attention on her, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist as if grounding himself in the present.

They danced to the old songs they’d loved in college, laughing as they spun each other around, letting loose in a way they hadn’t been able to in months. There was something freeing about being there, away from the eyes of the media, away from the pressures of his career. For that night, they were just Adam and Y/N, two people who had fallen in love in a little college town, and it felt like nothing else mattered.

As they left the bar in the early hours of the morning, he pulled her close, his voice soft in her ear. “Thank you for this,” he murmured, his eyes filled with gratitude. “For everything. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

She smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “We’re both lucky, Adam.”

They walked back to their car, hand in hand, feeling a renewed sense of connection, a reminder of everything that had brought them together.

When they finally returned to Columbus, they spent the next morning lounging around their apartment, savoring the last moments of their time off. They made breakfast together, laughing as they danced around the kitchen, stealing kisses between flipping pancakes and sipping coffee.

After breakfast, they curled up on the couch, wrapped in a cozy blanket as they listened to the records they’d bought on their trip. The soft melodies filled the room, and they sat in comfortable silence, her head resting on his shoulder, his arm draped around her.

“Do you ever think about the future?” she asked quietly, breaking the silence.

He looked down at her, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, all the time. Especially when I think about you.”

She smiled, feeling a flutter of excitement at his words. “What do you see?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze softening. “I see us. Maybe a house someday, a place we can really make our own. And…maybe a family, if that’s what you want.”

Her heart skipped a beat, her cheeks warming. “I’d like that,” she whispered, feeling a mixture of excitement and hope.

He pulled her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Then that’s what we’ll have.”

They spent the rest of the morning wrapped in each other’s arms, talking about their dreams and the life they wanted to build together. It was a quiet, precious moment, a promise of the future they were creating, step by step.

As the off-season came to an end, they spent their last days together savoring every moment. They took long walks around the city, went on picnics, and spent late nights watching movies, laughing and holding each other close. Each moment was a reminder of the love they shared, the foundation they had built, and the dreams they had for the future.

On their final night before the season began again, Adam surprised her with a romantic dinner on their balcony, stringing up fairy lights and setting the table with candles and flowers. They spent the evening under the stars, sharing stories, laughter, and quiet, lingering kisses.

As the night drew to a close, he took her hand, his eyes filled with love and a quiet intensity. “Whatever happens this season, wherever this career takes me, I want you to know that you’re my priority. You’re the one thing that keeps me grounded, that reminds me of who I am. I’ll never lose sight of that, or of you.”

She felt her heart swell, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I know, Adam. And I’m here for you, no matter where this takes us. I love you.”

They shared a kiss under the stars, their hearts full of hope and promise. As they held each other close, they both knew that, no matter how demanding life became, they would always find their way back to each other. Their love was their anchor, their constant, and it was a promise that neither of them would ever break.

Columbus, Ohio – Mid-Season 2024

The season was in full swing, and Adam had been pushing himself harder than ever, determined to keep up with the demands of his growing career. Game after game, he poured everything he had into the ice, always eager to improve, to prove himself. But one night, after a particularly intense game, everything changed in an instant.

She was watching from the stands, cheering as usual, when she saw him go down. It was a rough play, and in a split second, Adam crashed to the ice, clutching his leg. Her heart stopped, a cold fear gripping her as she watched him wince in pain, his teammates gathering around him. The medical staff rushed onto the ice, helping him up, but the look on his face told her everything she needed to know—it wasn’t just a bruise or a scrape. Something was wrong.

After what felt like an eternity, they helped him off the ice, and she could see the strain in his face as he tried to put weight on his leg. Her stomach twisted as she rushed down to meet him, her mind racing with worry.

When she reached the locker room, she found him sitting on the bench, an ice pack pressed to his knee, his face pale. He looked up when he saw her, offering a weak smile, but she could see the frustration and fear in his eyes.

“Adam,” she whispered, rushing to his side. “Are you okay?”

He shrugged, letting out a bitter laugh. “Not really. Doc says it’s a sprain, maybe worse. They’re running more tests tomorrow.”

She sat beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Adam. You’re going to get through this.”

He nodded, but she could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clenched into fists as he struggled to hold back his frustration. “I just… I can’t believe this happened. I’ve been so careful, doing everything right, and now this? Right in the middle of the season?”

She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “Hey, don’t think like that. This is just a setback, okay? You’re going to heal, and you’ll come back stronger. You’ve overcome so much already.”

He looked at her, his eyes softening as he took a deep breath. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

They sat there for a while, her hand in his, both of them absorbing the reality of the situation. She could feel his vulnerability, the weight of his disappointment and fear, and it broke her heart to see him like this. But she was determined to be there for him, to support him through every step of his recovery.

The following days were a blur of doctors’ appointments, physical therapy sessions, and long, quiet evenings in their apartment. Adam was restless, the injury weighing heavily on him, and she could see how much it affected him. He tried to keep his spirits up, but there were moments when the frustration and doubt would creep in, clouding his usually optimistic outlook.

One evening, she found him sitting on the couch, staring at the floor, his shoulders slumped. She walked over, wrapping her arms around him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“What’s on your mind?” she asked gently, her voice soft.

He let out a heavy sigh, leaning back into her embrace. “I just feel…helpless. Everyone’s out there, giving it their all, and here I am, stuck on the sidelines, watching them. I don’t know how to just sit and wait.”

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, her arms tightening around him. “Adam, you’re not alone in this. You have the whole team behind you, and you have me. We’ll get through this, one day at a time.”

He turned to look at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

She shook her head, cupping his face in her hands. “You do. You deserve all the love and support in the world. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He pulled her into a kiss, his hands gentle yet full of need, as if grounding himself in the comfort of her presence. She could feel the weight of his emotions, the vulnerability he rarely showed, and she held him close, offering all the reassurance she could.

That night, as they lay in bed, she could feel his tension, the worry that gnawed at him even as he tried to rest. She reached over, tracing light patterns along his arm, her fingers gentle and soothing.

“Adam,” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the darkness.

He turned to face her, his expression softening as he looked at her. “Yeah?”

She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “I know this is hard, and I know it’s frustrating. But I need you to know that this doesn’t change anything—not who you are, not what you mean to me. You’re still the same person, still the man I fell in love with.”

He reached for her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. “I needed to hear that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Sometimes I feel like…like I’m letting everyone down.”

She shook her head, her gaze fierce. “You’re not letting anyone down. You’re human, Adam. You’re allowed to have setbacks, to feel frustrated. But you’re also strong, and you’re going to get through this. And I’ll be here every step of the way.”

He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her as he buried his face in her hair. They lay together in the quiet darkness, their breaths mingling as he let go of the fears he had been holding onto, surrendering to the comfort of her presence.

As the days turned into weeks, they settled into a new routine, one built around his recovery. She accompanied him to his physical therapy sessions, offering words of encouragement and holding his hand when the exercises became challenging. She could see the determination in his eyes, the way he pushed himself even when it was difficult, and it filled her with pride.

One afternoon, as they returned from a therapy session, he looked over at her, a small smile on his face. “You know, I couldn’t do this without you,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude. “You make it all a little easier.”

She smiled, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “I’ll always be here, Adam. We’re in this together.”

They spent the evening cuddled up on the couch, watching movies and sharing quiet moments of laughter. The injury, though difficult, had brought them closer in ways they hadn’t expected, revealing a strength in their relationship that went beyond the highs and lows of his career.

One night, after weeks of hard work and slow progress, Adam managed to walk unaided, taking a few steady steps across the room. She watched, her heart swelling with pride as he grinned at her, his eyes bright with excitement.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice filled with joy. “I’m getting there.”

She rushed over, wrapping her arms around him, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You’ve come so far.”

They shared a long, lingering kiss, their hands exploring each other as if rediscovering the love they had nurtured through the challenges of his recovery. That night, they moved together with a renewed sense of passion, each touch filled with gratitude, each kiss a reminder of the strength of their love. They lay together afterward, wrapped in each other’s arms, a quiet peace settling over them.

As they drifted into sleep, she felt a renewed sense of hope, a quiet certainty that, no matter what challenges they faced, they would always find their way back to each other.

When Adam was finally cleared to return to the ice, he was filled with a mixture of excitement and nerves. She watched from the stands, her heart pounding as he stepped onto the rink, his movements tentative at first but growing more confident with each stride.

As he skated, he looked up at her, offering a small, reassuring smile. She waved, her heart swelling with pride as she saw him back in his element, a part of the team once again.

After practice, he rushed up to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. “I did it,” he whispered, his voice filled with relief and joy. “I’m back.”

She hugged him tightly, her voice filled with pride. “I never doubted you, Adam. Not for a second.”

They shared a kiss, the world around them fading as they held each other, their love a constant in the whirlwind of his career. They had faced the challenge together, and they had come out stronger, their bond deeper than ever before.

That evening, as they returned home, they sat on the balcony, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance. Adam took her hand, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along her skin.

“Thank you for being there for me,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m the lucky one, Adam.”

They sat together in comfortable silence, their hearts full of love and hope for the future. As they watched the stars, they knew that, no matter what lay ahead, they would face it together, their love a constant light in the journey they had chosen to walk side by side.

Columbus, Ohio – Spring 2025

The season had been a wild success, both for the team and for Adam personally. With each game, he’d made his mark, proving himself not only as a strong player but as a dependable teammate and leader. But tonight was something extra special: Adam had reached a major career milestone—his 100th NHL goal.

Y/N watched from the stands, her heart racing as she saw the puck soar into the net, the entire arena erupting in cheers. She jumped up, clapping and cheering along with the crowd, a wave of pride swelling inside her. She caught his eye from across the rink as he skated back toward the bench, and he pointed up at her, a private little gesture that made her heart skip.

When the game ended, the crowd was still buzzing with excitement, chanting his name as he made his way off the ice. Y/N hurried down to the locker room, her cheeks flushed, anticipation bubbling up inside her as she waited to congratulate him.

The locker room was a whirlwind of laughter and celebration, his teammates congratulating him and slapping him on the back. When he finally spotted her waiting by the door, he broke into a grin, jogging over to pull her into his arms.

“Adam, I’m so proud of you!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “One hundred goals—you did it!”

He laughed, his eyes shining with excitement as he lifted her off the ground in a tight hug. “We did it,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

They shared a quick, private kiss, his hands lingering at her waist as if he didn’t want to let go. She could feel the pride radiating from him, a joy she knew he’d worked so hard for, and it made her heart swell with love.

“Alright, lovebirds!” one of his teammates called out, laughing as he tossed a towel in their direction. “Save some of that energy for the party!”

Adam rolled his eyes, chuckling as he turned back to her. “Ready to celebrate?”

She nodded, a smile spreading across her face. “With you? Always.”

Later that night, the team threw a celebration in honor of Adam’s milestone. The restaurant was filled with laughter and music, everyone sharing stories and toasting to his success. She stayed close by his side, watching him light up as his friends and teammates congratulated him. There was a certain ease to him tonight, a glow that only came from the fulfillment of a dream realized.

At one point, his coach raised a glass, calling for everyone’s attention. “Here’s to Adam,” he began, his voice filled with pride. “A hundred goals is no small feat, but what makes this guy truly remarkable is his heart and dedication. He’s a role model on and off the ice, and we’re proud to call him one of our own. To Adam!”

The crowd erupted in cheers, and Adam looked over at her, his face a mix of pride and gratitude. She raised her glass to him, giving him a warm smile as she mouthed, “To you.”

After a while, they slipped outside, finding a quiet spot away from the crowd. The night was cool, a gentle breeze rustling the trees as they stood beneath the stars. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

“I still can’t believe it,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe. “A hundred goals. Feels like a dream.”

She leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s no dream. You worked hard for this, Adam. You deserve every bit of it.”

He looked down at her, his eyes filled with a quiet intensity. “I wouldn’t be here without you, Y/N. You’ve been my rock through everything—the highs, the lows, the injuries… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, her heart swelling with love. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” she whispered, smiling through the emotion.

They shared a long, tender kiss under the stars, a private celebration of everything they had accomplished together. In that moment, she knew that, no matter where life took them, they would always have each other.

After the party, they returned home, both of them still riding the high of the evening. As soon as they stepped inside, he pulled her into his arms, his hands resting at her waist as he looked down at her.

“Dance with me,” he murmured, his voice soft.

She laughed, her cheeks flushing. “Adam, there’s no music.”

He shrugged, a playful grin on his face. “We don’t need music.”

He led her in a slow dance around the living room, their movements unhurried and gentle. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as they swayed together. It was a quiet, intimate moment, a perfect end to a night they would remember forever.

As they danced, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his voice filled with sincerity. “Thank you for believing in me, for standing by me through everything.”

She looked up at him, her heart overflowing with love. “Always, Adam. I’m with you every step of the way.”

They continued to dance, the world around them fading away, until they finally settled onto the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms. They spent the night talking about their dreams, sharing their hopes for the future, the love between them stronger than ever.

The following morning, they sat together on the balcony, sharing a quiet breakfast as the sun rose over the city. She looked over at him, feeling a sense of contentment she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“So, what’s next for us?” she asked softly, reaching for his hand.

He looked thoughtful, a small smile playing on his lips. “Well, I know I don’t want to do any of it without you. Whatever the future holds, you’re my number one.”

She smiled, feeling her heart skip a beat. “Do you ever think about…you know, settling down? Maybe a place of our own? A family?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes shining with hope. “All the time. I want all of that with you, Y/N. A home, a family—everything.”

They shared a long, lingering kiss, both of them feeling the weight of their shared dreams. The future felt open, a promise of everything they had worked for, and she knew that, whatever came next, they would face it together.

That evening, as the sun set, they decided to celebrate privately, sharing a bottle of wine on their balcony as the city lights began to twinkle. Adam poured them each a glass, raising his in a toast.

“To us,” he said, his eyes filled with love. “To everything we’ve built, everything we’ve overcome, and everything we’re going to create together.”

She smiled, clinking her glass with his. “To us.”

They sipped their wine, wrapped in each other’s arms, feeling a sense of peace and fulfillment that only came from being truly loved. In that quiet moment, they both knew that, no matter where life took them, they had found something lasting and real—a love that would carry them through every victory, every setback, and every dream they held for the future.

As they looked out over the city, she rested her head on his shoulder, her heart full of love and gratitude. They were each other’s home, each other’s hope, and she knew that, no matter what, they would always find their way back to each other.

And as the stars began to appear in the night sky, they shared one last kiss, a quiet promise of everything they would share in the years to come.

#adam fantilli #adam fanitlli x reader #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #my writing #columbus blue jackets #hockey #nhl

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kinardsevan · 1 day ago

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I was totally genuine because I would love your stuff on 911 proper! They're dropping the ball with everything atm, which is so damn frustrating, considering the setup they gave themselves this spring.

Much love! 🤗

Glad for the clarification! ❤️❤️

I can totally understand your feelings. Mine aren’t far off. I waffle back and forth basically by the hour over whether this is all a tee-up and there’s real intention behind it, or whether they truly did give up the best thing that they’ve had in years.

One of my biggest struggles on it all and how it doesn’t make sense, is the active effort to include Tommy/Lou in the social media posts and ABCs use of him in ads as well. I understand that the networks opinion isn’t the end-all, be-all. But I just can’t coalesce all that’s been fed to us to this point, both from a story standpoint, and from the use of Lou/Tommy in the grander scheme at large. It doesn’t make any sense in the narrative, regardless of the ideals that some people have about him being a plot point or “entry level relationship”. One of the quotes I think back on is when Oliver said he wanted to see these two go through the struggles do in their first year of a relationship. That quote alone was one of the things (along with the intentional use of “Evan”) that said to me “people want this to be a short story, but these factors point to Tommy being around long-term”. It goes to the issue that Tommy does not see Evan as “Buck”, when we have already extrapolated that Buck is a mask. We’ve known that since season 3 when he told Bobby that putting on his uniform makes him feel like he can do anything, and “Buck” was a name he took on FOR work. It’s a dignification that creates separation for him from others. By relation, Evan can be as stripped bare and honest as he wants. This is why the use of his first name has always been important. Maddie can see him stripped down and bare, metaphorically speaking, because she knows his trauma. She’s his sister so she gets Evan rights. Eddie used his first name once with the will. In the same context as being stripped down, this was important because he wasn’t communicating with Buck from the standpoint of coworkers, but as a close friend telling him that he had made a decision about the safety and care of his child, should something happen to him. I can’t remember if we’ve ever seen Bobby use his first name, but this has always felt less important because of the father/son narrative.

We’ve seen Chimney throw around “Evan” in weird contexts, but I don’t think it’s a bad thing, so much as they have a unique relationship due to being coworkers, friends, and brothers simultaneously. I think that’s why anytime we hear him say “Evan”, it’s a bit of a play on fucking with him.

So when we cycle back to Tommy, who had only EVER called him Evan, using the name Buck is him forcing himself to create a separation. We also as a fanbase hear that and go “no, that’s wrong, it doesn’t sound right”.

At the end of the day, I cannot reason a fact to build all of this into a narrative (and I do mean ALL of it), include Lou in social media posts, have him be involved in interviews about the show… all to set it on fire 13 episodes after he returns. You’d have to have a damn good reason for doing so, like an actor wanting to leave or being so problematic that they need them gone. Now, a certain group would like for us to believe this, but we don’t have any actual proof of ANY of this narrative. That all said, we have to revert back to what we know and what we’ve been told. Which is confusing.

So. I’ve rambled again. And repeated myself in some contexts 😂 but I think I made my point? (If not I’ll obviously come up with more shit later 😂😂)

#Mel’s musings #bucktommy #anon ask #ask me anything #my asks are open

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x-press-it · 2 days ago

Text

Devilish Desires 3/9?

Dangerous Temptations, Irresistible Touch 🎞️❤️‍🔥🌹🖤💻🖱️

Sub!Logan Howlett x Dom!OC (They/Them)

Summary: Logan, typically guarded and dominant, finds himself captivated by E, a mysterious being with a devilish allure and ancient presence that challenges his control.

Context: This story unfolds 'within' the "Days of Future Past" new timeline, during Logan's early years as a history teacher at Xavier’s School. It’s set well before his consciousness from the original timeline reconnects with him in 2023, as seen at the film’s end.

Content Warnings (for the whole story): Smut 18+ (Dry humping, Edging, Unprotected p in v.) - Dom!Logan into Sub!Logan - Pet Names (Good boy, pretty boy, pet, pup, amongst others...) reversed age gap (Logan is younger) - OC Notes: Established name, backstory, powers, fighting style, female body but gender fluid character (Logan misgender them at first because he doesn't know, even in the descriptions) - Mention of other character from the MCU and subtle references to the comics for flavor (not mandatory to understand what is happening) - Flash back and mention of past trauma - Fluff with Dark Undertones: Emotional tension and possessive affection - Worship Themes: Religious imagery, reverent language and awe - Ancient Mysticism: References to otherworldly or demonic presence - Mental Health: Power dynamics, personal vulnerabilities - Trope: Rivals to lovers. I'm back after 10 years of iatus and fairly new to how things are done on tumblr now, so sorry if I missed any warnings. Also english isn't my first language so there might be typos/weird sentences...

Notes: Got very inspired by sub!Logan and repeated listening of "Between wind and water" by Hael. Cover made with canva from an idea I got from this post. If you know who made the picture, tell me so I can credit them - Click on the divider to find the creator. Also this was meant to be an imagine turned into a full story. Just so you know, some chapters are very short, other are long. I'm in the process of editing/writing/rewriting parts so I'll post a chapter everytime I have one fully edited. This chapter was hard to wrestle with, but I won! Mention of legal stuff but I'm no lawyer so there might be inconsistencies ^^" Also brace yourself, power shift incoming.

Need some music? I've got you

Previously: in Devilish Desires

Chapters: 3/9?

Word Count: 7.1K / 43K+ for now

Sunlight filtered through the wide windows of Charles' office, casting a warm glow over the mahogany desk and polished floors. Logan paused in the doorway, feeling the familiar tension coil through him even before he fully entered. His gut twisted as he took in the sight of E leaning casually against the desk, one hip propped up, her head already turned toward the door, watching him approach. The calm, focused look on her face set him on edge, like she was always one step ahead, pulling unseen strings. Every time he saw her, it felt like she dug her claws deeper into his space, into him, without even trying.

"Logan, come in." The professor’s voice was warm, though there was a hint of tiredness to it. "We were just finishing up. Have a seat."

Logan ignored the invitation, his arms crossing over his chest as his eyes locked on E. “What’s this about?”

Charles gestured to the papers on his desk. "As you know, the school is growing, and with that comes more scrutiny from the government." He glanced at E, then back to Logan. "That’s why we worked on some contracts—to make everything as official and seamless as possible. We want things above board, so no one has any reason to be suspicious of us."

Logan’s pulse quickened as Charles spoke, each word digging into a place he’d thought had scarred over but never truly healed. He could feel the weight of the documents between them, a weight pressing down on his chest, squeezing until he couldn’t breathe. Just the mention of those papers, the mere sight of them, was like a trigger pulled—snapping him back to shadows he’d fought to bury. Contracts meant control; control meant deceit. Old instincts roared awake, instincts that told him to fight, to claw his way free. His mind twisted back, unbidden, to the sharp crack of a pen against paper, his name signed under false pretenses. Faces flashed before him, cold and detached, each one using him as if he were nothing more than sharpened adamantium, each one an anchor dragging him back to glimpses of a past he desperately tried to escape, yet crave to piece back together at the same time.

Memories slammed together—soldiers' cries, the dead weight of bodies, his own silent rage coiled like barbed wire around his gut. Promises broken, betrayals… He could barely register the room around him, the walls that meant safety and acceptance. All he felt now was the past closing in, like a cage—restrictive, suffocating. And then a single thought broke through, a rough mantra, ringing into his head, so loud it pulled him from the spiral: “Today is victory over yourself of yesterday…”

Logan blinked hard, shaking his head as he forced himself back to his senses, the slow ache of his claws tearing through his knuckles breaking through the fog. With gritted teeth, he pulled them back before they became visible. After a short sigh, his eyes flicked from the papers to E, then to Charles, his scowl deepening. “This is bullshit. I’m not some soldier you can pin down with paperwork, Chuck.” His voice was low, the ghost of past betrayals still burning in his chest as his hand clenched tightly at his side. “I don’t belong to anyone, and I sure as hell don’t need to be tied up in a contract like this. I’ve been here long enough, and I’m not about to start following rules that don’t make sense to me.”

Charles clasped his hands together on his desk, his voice soft but firm, trying to ease the distress he saw in his friend’s behavior. “Logan, you’re right,” he validated, calm yet earnest. “You’re no soldier here—you’re a mentor, and you’ve proven that. But this contract is necessary. You know the risks; despite Raven’s actions, the government is still watching mutants closely after all these years. These contracts are for the teachers’ protection, for the students, and for the school itself.”

His expression was calm, deliberate, like he was teaching a class. Logan could see the weight of responsibility on Charles's shoulders, a reminder of the burdens they all carried. “It’s a formality to ensure you’re recognized as part of the staff. If they start asking questions, this contract might be our best defense.”

He held Logan’s gaze, the tension building in the air between them. In a quieter tone, he added, “This isn’t about control; it’s about security. If something were to happen, this paperwork could mean the difference between staying under the radar and drawing unwanted attention.” Logan felt a flicker of unease at the thought but pushed it aside, his feral pride refusing to let him show any weakness in front of E.

He shook his head, the tension in his shoulders thickening with each word. “A formality? Security? It’s a damn leash, that’s what it is! And I know she’s behind this.” His tone was sharp, the accusation clear as his chin jerked toward E, his eyes still on Charles.

E raised a brow, a slight smirk dancing at the corner of their lips. “They,” they corrected smoothly, their voice slipping in like silk over a blade.

Logan’s eyes snapped to her face, his brows knitting in confusion, anger swirling in his glare. “What?”

“You said ‘she,’” E explained, their tone lilting with amusement, not even flinching under the weight of his gaze. “I prefer ‘they.’”

For a second, Logan blinked, caught off guard. The shift in their demeanor—so detached, almost playful—disarmed him. It was a rare response to his fury, and it chipped away at the anger bubbling in his chest. He gave a quick, gruff nod, like a student getting a slap on the wrist for falling into a master’s trap. “Right. They.”

His lips pressed into a firm line, the weight of the situation settling like a stone in his gut. Yet, that primal part of him refused to fold so easily. “But that ain’t the point. The point is, I’m not signing a damn thing before I’ve read it. I’m not some teacher that punches a clock. You know me, Charles.”

Charles nodded, like he expected this. “I do, my friend. And I don’t want to force you into anything you’re uncomfortable with. But it’s necessary. If you’re going to keep mentoring, you need to be recognized officially as part of the school’s staff.”

Logan’s jaw clenched as his gaze flicked from the papers back to E, who hadn’t taken their eyes off him. His fingers twitched, itching to pull at the collar of his shirt, the weight of the contract already tightening around his neck.

A metallic muffled sound came from under E’s jacket’s sleeve as they shifted, leaning into their stance with one hand on Charles’ desk, the other resting on their waist and Logan’s eyes were drawn, almost against his will, to the subtle curve of their chest beneath the deep red blouse. The top few buttons were undone, revealing just a hint of cleavage, a thin golden chain that held a delicate white pearl, resting against their skin. For a second, his thoughts strayed before he forced his gaze back up, catching the faint hint of their dark horns just peeking from under their hair—a sharp reminder of exactly who he was dealing with.

“It’s just official paperwork, Logan,” they said, voice smooth with a playful lilt, enjoying the ripple of energy they felt from him as his thoughts wandered, though their expression stayed composed. “I can help you with the legal mumbo jumbo if you’re having trouble. I’d be happy to give you a private lesson… walk you through all the fine print, personally.”

Logan’s cheeks flushed, just for a second, barely noticeable beneath his hardened exterior, but it was there. E could feel the familiar tingle coming from him, that want simmering beneath his anger. His jaw tightened, fists clenching at his sides, and he shot them a glare, willing the heat away as if it’d been nothing. “I ain’t havin’ trouble with anything,” he growled, his voice low and rough. But E simply watched him with an amused, knowing glint in their eye, a faint laugh catching under their breath.

Charles, observing the exchange, raised an eyebrow, eyes twinkling with the slightest bit of humor. Clearing his throat gently, he spoke up in to ease the rising tension. “E, let’s not push too hard. Logan’s cautious, but we need to find a compromise. And Logan, I’m afraid that until we reach an agreement that satisfies both sides, I’ll have to ask you to step down from your teaching position. I can’t risk the school’s safety.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Logan stiffened, his fists clenching harder, knuckles now white. Stepping down? It felt like an ultimatum, but Charles wasn’t wrong. The safety of the school had always come first. E’s gaze softened just slightly, though he could still see that flicker of amusement in their eyes. “You’re right, Professor. My apologies.” They turned to Logan, offering a nod. “I got carried away—it was unprofessional of me. I understand where you’re coming from, and I’m willing to collaborate with you so we may find a solution that works for both parties.”

As E pulled away into their composed demeanor, he felt the thread coiling in his gut relaxing, leaving him more room to breathe.

Logan wasn’t used to them backing down that easily, and it threw him for a second. He shifted, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, his faint scowl deepening as he muttered, “Huh?” It was as if a switch had flipped, and he couldn’t help but wonder what their angle was. “Okay?”

And E could have left it there, but something inside urged them to add, a spark of teasing in their gaze, “After all, you’re not one to play by anyone else’s rules. So why not help shape the ones that work for you?”

Logan shot them a sharp look, their words sinking in slowly. He hated how they got under his skin, how easily they seemed to read him. But they weren’t wrong, either.

He took a breath, unclenching his hands, though he still felt like a cornered animal. “Fine. We’ll work something out. But I’m not signing anything that tries to box me in, Charles. I need enough room to be me.”

Charles’s expression softened in relief, giving a small nod of approval. “Of course, my friend. Take your time—I want you to feel comfortable with this. We’ll reconvene when you’re both ready.” He paused, glancing at the papers, before adding, “In the meantime, I’ve got other work that requires my attention.”

Logan barely registered the Professor dismissing them, his mind still tangled in the strange feeling of the interaction. E pushed off the desk gracefully, straightening the black jacket of their suit before gathering their things with practiced ease. When they finally stepped out of Charles’ office, Logan followed them out into the hallway. They walked in silence for a beat, the air between them still buzzing, though less tense than before. Yet, their scent still lingered—smoky, with a hint of spice—reminding him of their presence. And E, in turn, felt the simmering conflict inside him—the push and pull of resistance and attraction. It wasn’t enough to satiate them, but it would have to do for now, even if it left them wanting more. They allowed a brief, satisfied smile to ghost across their lips before tucking it away, resuming a more reserved expression.

“When do you want to go over the documents?” E’s voice was professional once more, all traces of their earlier playfulness gone, though a flicker of something else remained behind their eyes, like they were holding back.

Logan glanced over at them, still surprised by how quickly they’d shifted gears. This side of them—focused, efficient—was easier to handle. He could deal with this.

“Tomorrow, maybe. Got some time around three.”

E nodded, a hint of consideration in their gaze despite the reluctance in his tone. “I could make that work. We’ll go over everything, step by step. No surprises.”

The calm confidence they exuded kept catching him off guard, and against his better judgment, he found himself watching them differently. Was there more beneath that troublemaker act they put on around him?

E must’ve felt his gaze because they turned slightly, offering a small, almost sincere smile. “I’ll see you then.” Their voice was all business, but a hint of warmth slipped through—without the usual edge of teasing.

Logan grunted in response, but as they walked away, something lingered at the edge of his mind. Yes, there might be more to them than the predatory front they’d shown since they met. And maybe, just maybe, they weren’t as much trouble as he thought.

Or perhaps it was a ploy to lure him in, to make him relax and step willingly into their web. In any case, he wasn’t about to let his guard down. Not yet.

The library was quiet in the mid-afternoon light when Logan arrived, the subtle scent of aged paper and polished wood mixing with the now too familiar blend of spice wrapped in smoke. He pushed the door open with a soft creak, eyes immediately scanning the room, and sure enough, there they were—already seated at one of the large tables, surrounded by hefty open books, scattered documents, and a legal pad filled with meticulous notes.

E barely glanced up as he approached, their focus sharp on the papers spread out before them. The soft scratching of their pen on the smooth surface filled the air, the fluidity of their movements mesmerizing, almost hypnotic. Every action was deliberate, from the graceful lines they traced to the calm demeanor they carried.

Logan stood there for a moment, taking it all in—the precision and quiet focus they exuded. He couldn’t help but notice the neatness of their work: each point laid out clearly, with little diagrams and annotations. It wasn’t just thorough; it was methodical yet beautiful, almost like an art form. Even their handwriting, flowing effortlessly across the page—a blend of sharp angles and elegant curves—was damn near perfect.

He cleared his throat, and E, still writing, held up a finger, brows furrowed in focus. The gentle chime of their bracelets—three in total, one gold and two red—sounded as they moved, the soft music an elegant counterpoint to the silence. They needed to finish that thought, not wanting to lose their concentration. Logan waited for a few heartbeats, struck by the command in their motion, a powerful yet silent order that stoked the embers they had nestled in his chest during the last couple of weeks. When E finally looked up, their gaze met his with calm professionalism, but there was a flash of something else—an interest that sharpened their eyes, just for a heartbeat, before it vanished.

"You're early," they noted, their voice soft but steady, carrying just enough weight to catch his attention. "I wasn’t expecting you for another…” They quickly glanced at the delicate golden watch on their wrist. “… half hour, at least." There was a pause, and E gestured toward the chair on the other side of the table. "Please, sit."

Logan obeyed reluctantly, still unsettled by the way they were behaving—cold, detached, like they were someone else entirely. The tension between them had loosened so much he could hardly feel it, as if it might vanish entirely if he tried to reach for it. “Figured I’d get this over with,” he mumbled, his eyes not leaving their face.

A small smile played at the corner of their lips, and they flipped one of the hefty books closed to make room between them, before pushing a section of the contract toward him. "Well, I’ve already gone through most of the legal terms and highlighted the parts you might find concerning. If something still doesn’t sit right with you, we can discuss… adjustments."

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been busy.”

“I don’t like wasting time on work.” Their eyes flicked to the stack of notes they had assembled, before neatly setting them aside. “Let’s just get through this.”

Logan picked up the contract, flipping through the pages slowly. The neat little annotations caught his eye—small, concise memorandums in that same precise handwriting on flashy sticky notes, guiding him through each clause. As much as he hated to admit it, the thoroughness was impressive. “You really did all this?”

E leaned back slightly in their chair, crossing their arms, a faint smile playing at the corners of their lips, like they were enjoying something only they understood, and he felt a subtle pull inside, a tension stirring. “I told you I’d help you with the legal stuff, didn’t I?”

Logan’s eyes drifted to the pages again, unable to ignore how… perfect their handwriting was. Every sentence was clear, fluid, each letter delicate, intentional. They hadn’t just scrawled down information in a rush—not only they’d taken the time to make it legible, but it also felt like they had crafted something meant to be appreciated, drawn with careful control, patience, like each and every stroke mattered.

“You write like a damn artist,” he muttered despite himself, half impressed, half irked by the precision of it all.

E’s soft chuckle was barely audible, but he caught the faintest hint of satisfaction in their expression as they watched him linger on the page. They were absorbing his reaction, almost savoring it, letting his admiration wash over them like a silent, steady current. “Years of practice,” they replied, eyes glinting with a subtle satisfaction. “Didn’t expect you to notice details like that.”

He grunted in response, still staring at the page before flipping to another section. “I don’t miss much.”

E leaned forward again, the light jingle of their bracelets accompanying the movement as they tapped a finger on one of the highlighted paragraphs. “This part, in particular, is important. It’s a non-disclosure clause. You might want to pay special attention to that.”

Logan followed the motion of their finger, noting the cleanly filed nail that glimmered faintly under the light—maybe some sort of transparent polish? Even that was meticulously done, and the thought made something simmer in him before he blinked it away, refocusing on the contract. “So I can’t say anything about… what, exactly?”

“About the students. The curriculum. The specific ways the school operates,” they clarified, their tone even and clear, leaving no room for confusion, even as a subtle ripple passed between them. “It’s a precaution to ensure no one leaks sensitive information.”

Logan scowled, the idea gnawing at him. “I get why, but it feels like a muzzle.”

E’s gaze softened slightly as they leaned back again, folding their hands neatly on the table in front of them. The metallic sound of their bracelets chimed softly, a delicate accent to the motion. “It can feel that way, yes, but it’s standard for any organization handling confidential matters, especially one like this school. It's about protecting everyone here—especially you and the kids. Though, we can amend the wording if that’ll make you more… comfortable.”

Logan studied their face, taking in the sincerity behind their words. For once, it didn’t feel like they were toying with him or trying to play some angle. They were just doing their job—and a damn good one at that.

He exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t like bein’ locked into something I don’t trust.”

E’s eyes softened as they nodded slowly, their expression understanding. “That’s fair. We can tweak the language so it’s more gray, more aligned with what you’re comfortable with. To give you room to adjust? You don’t have to feel trapped, Logan.”

Logan’s hand rubbed the back of his neck as he sighed. “You’re makin’ it real hard for me to argue, you know that?”

Their smile was faint, their fingers gently drumming on the wooden desk between them. “I’m not trying to make it harder. Just easier for you to see that this isn’t about control. It’s about protecting what you’re building here.”

Logan dropped his eyes to the contract again, that tight, familiar knot in his chest loosening just a bit. He didn’t trust easy—but they were making a damn good case. He couldn’t deny that. He could see how carefully they’d worked through the details, the amount of care they’d put into making this whole thing understandable. It was… reassuring, in a way. As much as he hated to admit it, they had a point. It wasn’t about locking him into anything—it was about making sure everything stayed secure. The kids came first, always.

He met their gaze again, something shifting between them. He still wasn’t ready to trust completely, but at least they were giving him a reason to reconsider. “Alright,” he muttered, almost grudgingly. “Let’s go through it.”

E smiled—this time, it was genuine. Not playful, not teasing, just… genuine, content. They slid a few more papers toward him, their focus back on the work, but Logan couldn’t help but notice the shift in their energy. As they started explaining the finer points, guiding him through each legal term with that same sharp professionalism, he couldn’t help but admire the way they handled things. They were focused, sharp, and professional.

Maybe this was the side of them he could start to respect.

For now.

They’d been at it for hours, bending and reshaping the terms until each clause balanced protection with freedom. E kept their demeanor professional, drawing on every ounce of restraint to keep their voice even and their gaze measured, ignoring the familiar hunger snapping at their focus now and then. And the more they worked, the more they could sense Logan beginning to relax, perhaps appreciating this side of them—this businesslike efficiency that gave him room to breathe, rather than the tension they used to stir in him. He was still sharp and guarded around them, but in the subtle shifts of his body language, they sensed they were both easing into a more comfortable exchange, his trust inching closer as they tweaked the terms to help him maintain his independence.

In his careful consideration of each clause, they saw how deeply he valued his autonomy. His desire to protect the kids and guide them through a brutal world was unmistakable, yet he seemed determined to do it on his own terms. Watching him was like seeing a reflection of their own drive: the same visceral need to resist being anyone’s pawn, to forge a path where people like them weren’t turned into weapons or tools for the powerful. E knew what it was to navigate that treacherous line, to have allies rather than be a pawn, to be indispensable but never owned. Becoming a lawyer had finally allowed them to create partnerships, to protect their independence in a way they hadn’t had in the past.

They looked at Logan now, the way he was part of something great without letting it absorb him, and felt a twinge of resonance. It was like looking into a rippling, distorted mirror: his methods protective where theirs were persuasive, his presence blunt where theirs was all charm and deliberate control. But that difference made sense, considering their mutations. He had claws; they had…this. This carefully wielded hold over emotions. Had they been born with claws, would they have protected instead of manipulated? They weren’t sure.

Their gaze drifted from the paper to his handsome face as they sank into those thoughts, the realization dawning—slow and unexpected—that he wasn’t simply a source of energy, or the toy they’d wanted him to be at first. He was a potential ally in a way few others could be. Someone who might amplify their strength instead of being drained. Not just a meal to be consumed but something rarer—a piece that, in its own strange way, completed the picture of who they could be. As if they were two sides of the same coin.

Lost in thought, they almost missed the slight cough as Logan cleared his throat, his voice breaking through their haze.

“Need a break?” he asked, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, catching them just off guard enough that they had to recompose themselves, reassemble that mask over their features before their thoughts slipped any further into the open.

“No, I’m good,” they replied, eyes turning back to the papers in front of them. “We’re almost done, anyway.” But as they looked away, a thought slipped in—a terrifying, persistent thought.

What if, just for a few moments, they let him see behind the surface?

The more they considered it, the more it tugged at them. Curiosity twisted into need—a need to be seen fully, not just for what they could do or the games they played, but for every scarred, layered piece that made them who they were. Logan was unique, after all. He understood the weight of living too many lifetimes, of carrying too many pasts. Maybe he, of all people, could handle the person they kept buried underneath.

They wrestled with the urge, every instinct resisting, their armor honed by years of experience and necessity. Something deep inside warned it was dangerous—unnecessary. But then again… maybe not. Because the thought kept tugging, whispering that maybe, just maybe, it could be something greater. A partnership that didn’t hinge on pretense or servitude but on something raw and real, something powerful.

Their gaze returned to him, lingering. He was relaxed now, waiting, not pushing. And maybe that’s what finally broke their resolve.

“You know, Logan,” they began, the words slipping out, edged with a subtle amusement that curled at the corners of their mouth. “You’re… an interesting case.” Their tone was light, but Logan could feel the weight behind it, something sharper. “In a world full of people pursuing causes, you stand apart. You’re here, fighting for something, part of a team, a mentor—yet you keep a step back, like you’re in it but always on the edge.”

They took their time, choosing their words carefully. “Not interested in becoming anyone’s weapon. Not about to let anyone make a puppet out of you.” They paused, their smile fading as their peculiar eyes locked with his, earnest, with a hint of challenge. “I respect that about you.”

Logan’s expression shifted, his relaxed posture tensing as he regarded them with a sharp glance. Crossing his arms, he studied their face, searching for their angle. There was no mistaking the twinkle in their gaze, a glint that almost dared him to see through it. He furrowed his brows, but his voice was steady. “Yeah? Well, I don’t dance on anybody’s strings. If I’m fighting for something, it’s because it matters to me. And I do it my way.”

He watched as something flickered in their eyes—a veil lingering for a few heartbeats, like his words had pulled something deep from the shadows of their mind. When their gaze met his again, it was steadier, as if a quiet understanding had slipped between them. “I get that,” they replied, voice low, the words hanging in the air with a quiet finality.

Logan studied them, suspicious of this sudden transparency. “So what? You’re saying you’re the same?” he asked, his tone guarded, almost testing.

“Maybe.” Their mouth curved in a smirk, one that seemed to bare their teeth as much as it smiled. “Let’s say I’ve had experience balancing independence with… affiliations.” They leaned forward slightly, the light metallic sound of their bracelets chiming with the motion, drawing his attention and making his senses sharpen. Their gaze glinted with something that hinted at danger, at control. “When people see power, they get ideas. They get greedy. Sometimes, we have to show them who’s in charge—decide where the lines are, or blur them if it suits us.”

Logan’s brows knit, eyes narrowing. “So, you’re tellin’ me you dance along the line but won’t let anyone hold your strings.” He leaned back, gaze sharp. “How’s that working out for you?”

They gave a light shrug, a glimmer of amusement in their eyes. “You’d be surprised. Charles, for one, respects it—but you already know that.” They smirked, as if holding back a bigger truth. “There are others, too. Equally powerful… Stark, for instance.”

Logan’s eyebrows shot up at the name, genuine interest breaking through his cautious demeanor, crumbs of energy swallowed by E’s greedy hunger. “Stark? As in the Tony Stark?” He couldn’t hide the hint of curiosity in his tone and leaned in, almost imperceptibly. “You actually know the guy?”

They lifted their brows, a small pout on their lips, playing down the significance of it with an offhand shrug, though Logan noticed a spark of pride in their eyes. “Worked with him, actually. Fresh out of law school. I had a friend—blind attorney, good guy—who mentioned Stark needed someone sharp to help… clean up a few things. Secure patents, keep his tech out of the wrong hands.” They kept it vague, partly out of client confidentiality and partly knowing that Logan wasn’t likely interested in legal specifics.

“Not exactly glamorous, but it was an exhilarating start,” they added, the flicker of pride now shining in their voice. “Let’s just say that navigating the minefield of a billionaire’s reputation certainly kept things interesting. And it was good for the notoriety.”

Flecks of emotion brushed against something deep within E—a faint thrill they quickly stifled but couldn’t entirely ignore—as Logan muttered something under his breath, a note of respect edging his tone. He’d always seen Stark as the kind of guy who didn’t trust anyone but himself—and maybe his assistant, or whatever she was now. “Bet that kept you busy.”

A chuckle escaped them, eyes glinting as the soft chime of their bracelets accompanied the sound. “Busy? He kept me on my toes. The man’s got a mind like wildfire; it was a challenge keeping up. But it was… refreshing.” They leaned back, an almost nostalgic look slipping over their face. “I guess it taught me to walk the line, to make a difference without being tied down.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, intrigued despite himself. The story felt like a glimpse into the puzzle of their past. “So how’d you end up here?” he asked, his curiosity piqued. “Not that I’m sayin’ this place is a downgrade or anything,” he added with a smirk, resting his arms on the table.

They sensed his interest like a pulse, faint but unmistakable. It seeped into them, stirring that familiar, alluring rush, and they let out a soft laugh, an edge of amusement in their eyes. “Did you know Charles and Stark held a gala a few months back to fund the school’s new equipment?”

Logan nodded, some recognition flitting across his face. “I remember hearing about it. Charity thing, wasn’t it?”

“Exactly.” Their voice stayed casual, but their eyes sparkled with the thrill of memory. “That’s where I met Charles.” Their gaze flicked back to him, pausing just long enough to let the moment breathe. “We got along right away. He needed someone to navigate the legalities and ensure the school’s mission stayed protected. A few conversations later, and here I am.” Their eyes held his, a glimmer of interest that wasn’t easily brushed aside, as his curiosity continued to fuel something deep within them.

Logan could feel it too—a pull he couldn’t resist, a delicate pressure building inside him, different from the sharp pull of their first exchanges. This was smoother, quieter, sinking in with each new glimpse he got of E’s story, drawing him in until pulling back wasn’t an option. He sensed the quiet power behind everything they revealed, and it stirred something deeper in him—a mix of respect, intrigue, and the surprising comfort of recognition, that kept the tension going.

He leaned back, crossing his arms again, a smirk tugging at his lips. “So, you just go wherever the cause suits you, huh?” His voice held a challenge underlined by curiosity. “If Stark showed up again tomorrow, you’d be right back in his corner?”

E nodded, unfazed by the edge in his tone. “If his goals align with mine? Yes. Of course I’d work with him again! Without a second thought! Same goes for Charles.” Their gaze softened, a glimmer of conviction breaking through their usually controlled demeanor. “I want to be part of something that matters, Logan.”

Logan studied them, catching just how much they meant it. He’d known E wasn’t anyone’s puppet, but now he could see they weren’t waiting around for someone to hand them a cause, either. They were carving out their own path—fluid, adaptable, going wherever their instincts took them. And he found himself respecting that: their drive, mixed with that fierce independence. Hell, he could relate to it—maybe even admire it a little.

E felt it, the ripple of his respect, like a quiet current feeding into them. For all their control, a spark of satisfaction slipped through their gaze, their mask almost slipping as they met his eyes. His admiration, rare and guarded, felt potent—dangerously so. The energy coursed through them, lingering like a hidden pulse beneath their skin. They shifted slightly, regaining composure before his steady gaze could pierce too deeply.

They looked calm, in control, continuing their previous thought. “I’m loyal to a cause.” Then, their eyes took on a sharper edge, something deeper flickering beneath the surface. “But I’ll never let myself be chained to anyone ever again.”

There was a flash of anger, fierce and unyielding, sparking in their gaze. The quiet chime of their bracelets sounded as they leaned forward, their voice steady but intense. “There’s too much to do, too many ways to make a difference—like what you do here with these kids.”

Logan didn’t miss the brief fire of fury that had slipped through the cracks in their cool confidence, just enough to reveal a scar, raw and unhealed. They didn’t merely have a preference for freedom; it was a need, born from something that had burned them hard and left its mark. That kind of wound didn’t heal easy—he’d know.

He held their gaze, his expression softening with a rare flicker of understanding. E might play at being dangerous and unpredictable, but he was beginning to see past the games, past the mischief. Beneath it all, they weren’t half as threatening as they liked to seem—not to him, anyway. And now he wondered if their determination to make a difference came from more than just ambition. Maybe they were out here carving paths so no one else would have to walk through the fire alone.

Just as quickly, E’s eyes narrowed, the hint of vulnerability vanishing as they pulled themselves back. Their lips curved into a knowing smirk, that easy, predatory edge sliding into place. “What’s with the look, Logan?” they purred, voice rich with playful menace. “Didn’t think I’d have you figured out that quickly?”

He tilted his head, a low chuckle rolling out as his eyes held steady, watching them with newfound clarity. “Long way from that, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice as rough as the smile he wore. His stare cut through their guarded expression, tracing that hidden spark they were still trying to shield. “But I’ve seen enough to figure out there’s a hell of a lot more goin’ on with you that what you let on.”

They scoffed, dismissive as ever, though Logan’s steady gaze didn’t miss the faint, almost imperceptible shift in their eyes, the way they lingered on him just a second too long. They were good at playing the part; he could give them that. And hell, he had to respect it—the way they held their ground, defiant but calm, ready to take on whatever came next. But he’d caught a glimpse behind their guard now—just enough to give him a way in, a thread he could pull if he wanted, evening the power balance between them. A hint of a smirk tugged at his lips; they’d shown him more than they intended, and he planned on playing that to his advantage.

E met his stare, the faintest crease of tension at the edge of their mouth as they spoke. “There’s not much going on with me,” they said smoothly, though their tone carried an edge, a warning, like a line drawn firmly in the sand. “At best, you’ll see someone who’s lived long enough to know that, at some point, we’re just the sum of our own burdens—regrets, pain, and the constant battle to find a place in a world that sees us as either weapon or threat.” They shrugged, gaze cooling as if daring him to contradict them. “I know you know what I mean.”

Logan’s mouth quirked, and he offered a subtle nod. Oh, he knew. He knew that weight, the feeling of being something both feared and useful, but he also saw how tightly they held onto that defensive edge, like armor too important to set aside. And it made sense. If they’d been through even half of what he had, especially as a woman with power, that sharpness was more than just for show—it was a primal instinct born from necessity.

“So, you play the part of the predator, huh?” he asked, his voice casual, almost challenging. “Gotta keep everyone on their toes, or they might see more than you want ‘em to?”

Their gaze hardened slightly, something flickering before they smoothed it over. “It’s survival, hun,” they replied, tone measured with a hint of sarcasm, the nickname sharp on their lips. Their fingers moved up to toy with the delicate golden chain around their neck, the single white pearl shifting gently between their fingertips. “I wasn’t raised to be anyone’s prey. I’ve always been powerful in a way, even before my true nature revealed itself. Living as a mutant in this world means learning to navigate perceptions—people don’t always take well to what they don’t understand. You know that too. So, yes, most of the time, I have to play the predator. It’s how I keep my place in this society.”

Their eyes gleamed, that familiar guarded edge slipping back into place, like steel settling into a sheath. “And maybe it’s the only way I know how.”

The words settled between them, carrying an honesty that almost surprised him. Beneath the mischief and sharpness, he could see the echoes of past battles that had molded them into someone who walked the line between danger and glamor, between freedom and guarded solitude.

“Doesn’t it get exhausting?” he asked, tone light but edged enough to make it clear he wasn’t just making conversation. “Playin’ that part all the time, keepin’ everyone at arm’s length?”

For a split second, something flickered across their face—an almost imperceptible crack—but they smoothed it over with a cool smile. “It’s only exhausting if you don’t know how to handle it,” they replied, looking down at him with a hint of mockery, as if to suggest he wouldn’t know. Leaning back, they reclaimed control of the moment. “Besides, I didn’t walk this path to blend in with the crowd. The world makes demands. I learned early that if I wanted a future worth having, I’d have to shape it myself—alone.”

They straightened with a subtle chime of their bracelets, a glint of pride in their stance, fierce and unyielding, making Logan’s respect tick up a notch, teasing E’s hunger with a rich, electric thrill. They felt it brush against their senses, fueling the simmer beneath their calm. For a fleeting moment, their expression softened, indulging in the warmth of his regard. But it didn’t escape him that beneath their carefully crafted façade lay a quiet kind of fatigue, a weariness he knew too well. They might be used to the role, but that didn’t mean it didn’t take a toll. With a practiced flick of their eyes, they returned to their cool detachment, meeting his gaze with that same untouchable allure, even as their hunger urged them closer.

Logan shifted, crossing his arms loosely, gaze steady as a teasing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, his eyes glowing with playful challenge. “Sounds to me like someone’s after more than just puttin’ on a show.”

Their smile froze for the briefest moment, a flicker of tension before they rolled their eyes, snapping the mask back into place. “And you think you know what I’m after?” They raised an eyebrow, voice slipping into that smooth, predatory edge that reminded him just how much they hated being read—just like he did.

“Maybe,” he replied, holding their gaze with that same easy smirk. “Seems like a part of you might want somethin’ more. Connections. Someone to reach out to, now and then. Make it feel less… empty.”

They scoffed, laughter low and guarded as they leaned in, the slight sound of their bracelets punctuating the motion once more. Their voice dropped to a whisper. “Don’t flatter yourself, Logan,” they said, eyes glinting with challenge as they inched closer, the whisper turning almost venomous. “I don’t need anybody, pretty boy. Especially not you.” Both their words and gaze sharpened, a teasing yet defensive spark behind it, though something unspoken lingered there. The faint chime followed their movements, an echo of tension and warning. “You might think you’ve seen through me, but trust me, there’s a lot more here than you’re ready to understand. So, stop digging. You might not like what you find.”

Logan’s smile barely shifted, but he didn’t push further, didn’t try to peel back any more layers. He didn’t need to. He’d seen enough to know that behind the sharp edges and fierce guard, E wasn’t so different from him. And the thing they made him crave these last few weeks might just be the thing they’d craved themselves for a long time.

Silence stretched between them, charged and unbroken, as they sized each other up—E, guarded and fierce behind their confident exterior; Logan, settled and a little more at ease than he’d been since they first met.

He chuckled, a low, quiet rumble that broke the silence and hung in the space between them. A confident smile played on his lips, almost as if he were savoring his small victory. “So,” he murmured, leaning in. “We done here, or… you need me for somethin’ else?” His tone carried a hint of something deeper, something suggestive.

They bristled, the calm mask slipping momentarily as irritation flashed in their eyes, but they regained composure, sliding smoothly into a clipped, professional tone. “If you don’t see any more changes to make, I can take care of the rest. I’ll give you the documents once they’re finalized.”

Logan nodded, his gaze steady as he rose from his chair, towering over them for a brief moment. “Alright,” he said, his voice warm but resolute, like he was sealing an unspoken agreement. “See you around then.”

With that, he turned, heading toward the door. And as he left, he took with him the solid rythm of his presence, that subtle weight of connection they’d woven into him over the past couple of weeks. The room felt colder, emptier without it. The quiet settled in, hollow and gnawing, the sharp hunger suddenly surging in as the connection broke, slipping from their grasp like sand between their fingers.

Alone once again, they could almost feel it—an ache beneath the calm exterior, an unsettling reminder of what he’d managed to stir to life, only to take it away.

To be continued…

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don't forget to comment and spread the love 😊 More on the way!

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franeridart · 11 months ago

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The Housecat Philosophy is finally on webtoon!!

Finally!!! After months of promising it'd be available over there soon!!!! Finally!!!!!!

.....it's my fault it took this long I apologize, but yes you can read it over there too now thank you for your patience m(._.)m

#the housecat philosophy #artists on tumblr #original art #original comic #webcomic #my sketches #too why not there's art over there #anyway the link should work let me know if it doesn't #it took me so long to understand how to set it up i felt like my dad trying to puzzle out the tv remote

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iknityounot · 11 months ago

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(Long post, sorry y'all)

A little more than two years ago now, my grandmother passed away. She and my grandpa had moved down to my home town a few years before so we could take care of them. I brought them groceries once a week, helped them write checks, fixed tvs, and found lost things. I was really close with my grandma.

In addition to her hilarious personality and dry wit, one of my favorite things about her was that she was a painter and a crafter like me! She used to crochet, and I took her to the craft store a couple of times so she could get more yarn and books on crochet. But her arthritis and the shaking in her hands kept getting worse, so she eventually had to stop.

She kept her most recent project, a granny square blanket, safely packed away in a plastic bin. She told all of us she was going to finish it one day.

Her hands never got better, and when she got sick, and we found out it was cancer, she rapidly deteriorated.

After she passed, I went to work helping my mom clean out my grandparents apartment so we could move my grandpa in with her. In our frantic cleaning, I found that bin again:

DOZENS of granny squares, dozens of half used skeins. I asked my mom what she wanted me to do with it, and she said she didn't care. I set it aside and later took it home.

Maybe a month later, that tumblr post about the Loose Ends Project was going around. It felt like a sign--I was never going to learn to crochet in order to finish my grandmother's blanket. But they might be able to help!

So I filled out the interest form. They got back to me SUPER quick. And maybe 2 weeks later, I was paired with volunteer in my state (only 2 hours away!) and the box of yarn, granny squares, and my grandmother's crochet hook were in the mail. That was at the end of January this year.

Over the next couple of months, my "finisher" emailed me regular updates on her progress, and asked me questions on my preferences for how she constructed the final blanket.

At the end of August, the blanket was done!

I had always intended the blanket to be a gift for my mother. So I cleaned it up, put it in the only bag I had big enough to fit it, and drove to my mom's. I gave the blanket to her and she was gobsmacked. I explained to her all about Loose Ends, and how someone volunteered to finish the piece for us. She was speechless. (I was quite pleased with this, because I am not the best at giving gifts, so this was a pretty exciting reaction!)

She said that it was the most thoughtful gift she had ever been given. She said "your grandma would love this". To which I replied, "yeah, I know she really wanted to finish it a couple of years ago". But that was when my mom dropped the bomb of a century on me--she told me that my grandma had started making those granny squares OVER 30 YEARS AGO. She had started the blanket when my grandpa was staying in the hospital, but that was back when my mom was younger than I am now! My grandma had packed them all away, planning on finishing it, when my grandpa was sent home from the hospital. Then it went from house to house, from condo in Chicago to their apartment in my hometown. All that time and my grandma had wanted to finish it, but couldn't. First because she was busy, then because she forgot how to do it, then because of her arthritis, and then because of the cancer. My mom said she had given up on expecting my grandma to finish it.

She said I brought a piece of her childhood with her mom out of the past.

And really, all of this is to say, if you have seen or heard about the Loose Ends Project and have an uncompleted project or piece from a loved one who has passed away--these are your people. They were so kind and treated my project with such care. That box probably would have been found by my own grandkids one day if I hadn't heard about Loose Ends.

Five stars, absolutely worth it!

(From what I understand, you can sign up to volunteer too! If you have time to share, it might be worth checking out!)

#loose ends #the loose ends project #joy knits #text #long post #knit #knitting #crochet #crocheting #craft #crafting #diy #crochetblr #yarnblr #yarn #knitblr

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your-internet-bf · 5 months ago

Text

We hadn't always gotten along. When our parents got married, we could barely stand each other. How could we get along with some brat we barely knew? Luckily, I had an idea. I bought a clicker - you know, the one they use to train dogs? - and got to work.

I started with "thank you". Every time you said it, maybe at dinner, in the car, at a restaurant, I pressed the clicker. You couldn't tell where the sound was coming from, and nobody else seemed to know what you were talking about. But soon, I started helping you with chores around the house and when we finished, *click*. And without really thinking about it, you'd say "thank you."

A few months passed, and you'd started to notice things about me. I took care of myself. I was clean, and I exercised regularly. You'd hang around when you knew I'd be back from the gym just to catch a whiff of the sweat and metal on me when I returned - our eyes caught once when you got a little too close, and for the first time you saw something primal, a little dark, in my gaze. But it passed in an instant.

We started getting along better, now. So one day, when you were lying on the couch with a snack bowl, I snatched it up and motioned to throw it into your mouth. Well, innocent enough, right? And it wasn't like I was eating much, so it's fine, right? Every time you open your mouth to catch, *click*, *click*, *click*.

Then, I invited you to come work out with me. Every time you did a squat, *click*. I told you it was a metronome to keep your intensity up, but you noticed the bulge in my sweatpants was bigger than usual. Wait, when did you start noticing my bulge, especially enough to know that...?

Finally, it was time. I'd been listening outside your bedroom door for weeks now, and I knew when you'd be asleep. I quietly opened your door and stepped into your room, locking it behind me. You stirred at the sound of the lock clicking, but I wasn't afraid.

I gingerly pulled down the covers and just... stared for a while. I'd never taken the time to really look at how beautiful you are, how gorgeous those curves were. I could hardly stand it. As you lay on your side, I took out the clicker, and *click* it once. Laying on your side, like you were on the couch with the snacks, you obediently open your mouth.

I pull down my pants, my long, thick cock swinging between my thighs. I brush the back of my hand over your cheek, then set it firmly against the back of your head, and push into your mouth.

You wake up almost immediately, but my hand stops you from pulling back as I force inch after throbbing inch down your throat. The more you struggle, the tighter you feel, the harder I push, until you felt your nose press into my hips. You push as hard as you can against me, but I'm so much bigger and stronger than you it doesn't do anything. I don't even budge.

I start to grind into your skull, making you swallow the thick, heavy head of my cock again and again, as I groan in pleasure. I start thrusting harder and harder, making your eyes water as I slam my hips into your face again and again, until finally, mercifully, I release inside you, deep inside your throat. You feel me pulse with your whole mouth, and you struggle to swallow each load of thick, hot, sticky cum while I'm still inside you.

With a shuddering breath, I pull out, letting you breathe properly for the first time in minutes. I watch while you cough and catch your breath, and then I ask, "what do you say?"

You breathe in intending to scream, but then you hear it, just one soft *click*, and all you can say is "thank you".

You stare at me, confused. I wipe my cum off your chin with my thumb, and *click* again. "Thank you", you say.

"I knew it. You're such a good girl, aren't you? Now," I push you onto your back, "spread for me."

*click*

You raise your legs to either side, exactly like you're doing a squat.

"I don't - I don't understand," you whimper, legs still in the air.

"You don't have to," I reply, reaching one hand between your legs to feel how wet you are.

"You're soaking, little girl," as I bring my hand up for you to see... Then make you taste it. I reach back down and slip in two of my thick, strong fingers, and cover your mouth with my other hand as you moan. I press up in just the right spot, rubbing in tight, quick circles so deliciously that you can't help but arch your back and grind into me. You feel the pleasure build and all thought leaves your mind; the only thing that matters is my fingers inside you, the scent of my hand over your mouth, and the lingering taste of me.

But before you can finish I pull my fingers out, pressing up and out, leaving you twitching and gasping. "Not yet," I mutter, and I move myself down between your legs. I line up my cock, slapping it down on your tummy first. It reaches your navel, and you feel a wave of fear that only makes you wetter. I pull back, then start pushing in.

It's thick, thick, thick, and heavy. I stretch you out wider than you thought possible, pressuring you in every direction, spreading your aching cunt and making you feel full inside for the first time in your life. Long, deep strokes, moving your whole body with every thrust, reaching inside you, my breath coming fast and hard.

And you hear it again.

*click*

"Thank you," you choke out between sobs.

*click*

"Thank you," you moan.

*click*

"Thank you," you plead, tears in your eyes.

My strokes come faster now, slamming inside you like an animal as you continue to thank me for raping you. Finally, finally, finally, you feel me tense up and slam deep, deep, deep inside you, pressing your whole body into the bed, as I cum again. Huge, hot, sticky white loads of my cum shoot inside you, filling you, as my breath comes in gasps, and as I do you feel it too, now, the wave of pleasure cresting, and you cum, your legs squeezing together, your face screwed tight, moaning with the release of months of tension. And as you cum, you hear a new sound, a familiar sound, but it's deeper than the others...

*click*

And you cum harder, knowing I'm training you like a bitch in heat.

I climb up next to you, and just gaze into your eyes for a moment. Then I smile. "Let's go again."

*click*

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gutsby · 6 months ago

Text

Watch Your Mouth

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel teaches you to keep quiet during sex.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Silence kink. Size kink. Breeding kink. Age gap. Joel is a lot more experienced (!) Finger sucking. Orgasm denial. Soft dom!Joel x10000.

Word count: 1.9k

Maybe a hand was too much.

A kiss to stifle your cries, a tongue between your lips to steal any trace of a whimper before it could ever leave. Joel knew by the way your wet, pliant hole stretched wider and wider for him with each thrust that you’d eventually quiet down—but he needed silence now.

And he’d get it when he clamped his palm over your mouth. At first, your brows lifted with surprise, then pinched inward like you didn’t understand, then twitched again, involuntarily, when the head of his cock cleared a path straight toward your cervix. You whimpered into his hand and made a point to dig your heels even deeper in his back. Joel had promised he’d be better about that.

“‘M’sorry,” he mumbled.

Another stab. Another whimper, only louder this time.

“Sorry, baby, I’m—” Joel stopped to fight back a groan of his own, before pressing his palm down with even more force, “—sorry, jus’ need ya real quiet right now, okay?”

You tried to nod, but the weight and stricture of his grip were as heavy as lead against your face. Add to that the soft, sawing motions of his cock going in and out of your cunt and the nudge of his oversized tip at your cervix, and it was all you could do to just lay there and take it. Joel knew this was brand new to you—he’d been your first not too long ago and the only partner since—so he eased back and lifted his hand when you gave it a tug.

Grey stubble was already licking at the corners of your mouth with Joel’s minuscule kisses of reassurance when you giggled and squeezed him tighter between your legs:

“I’m tryin’, Joel. Really, I am,” you whispered.

“I know, sweet pea,” he whispered back, “I know.”

He took the palm he’d used to stifle your moans and smoothed it over your cheek, coming to rest at one side so he could kiss you fully. Maybe a hand was too much.

He’d inculcate restraint some other way, and if it didn’t come easy, a few more fucks on the forest floor like this one would probably do the trick. Your mouth opened up for his tongue just like your cunt would open up for more of his cum and the rest of your body would surely follow suit, learning to control the noises of pleasure as needed.

“Good girl,” Joel murmured against your lips, feeling you clench around him and expel a breath rather than whine. He withdrew himself to the tip, then plunged back in, “Such a good, perfect girl for me, ain’t ya, sweetheart?”

At length, you yelped into his mouth. You couldn’t help it. Rather than reprimand you with words or smother your lips with his palm, though, Joel kept fucking you gently.

“‘S’okay, pretty girl, it’s okay. I know that feels good.”

His mouth was next to your ear now, praises audible to no one else but you. It added a whole new dimension to your pleasure; Joel could tell from the way your walls constricted around him and choked him, sucked him in. The feeling nearly elicited a groan from his chest, but of course, he had all the resolve of a seasoned professional. Decades and decades of practice had done that for him.

“Joel,” you mewled.

Your face was screwed up in a grimace, eyes likely to be brimming with tears any second now. Joel slowed his pace once more, felt a pang of guilt for how big he felt inside you—how those decades and decades of practice set you drastically apart from each other in experience—and this time, he didn’t try to muffle your whines. He just stroked the top of your cheek with one thumb, and with the other, snaked a path between your body and his.

Admittedly, Joel was still learning about yours. He wasn’t sure if the whimpers you’d made were born wholly of pleasure or just a sense of being stretched out and filled. Because you yourself were still learning to be vocal, Joel figured he’d give the latter a stab. He started thumbing your clit in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure.

It worked, and it didn’t.

Your walls parted easily beneath the quiet ministrations of his thumb, opening yourself more to Joel’s thrusts, but they also tore a scream out of your throat—the kind that was liable to stir the leaves on every tree and alert any clicker within a two-mile radius to your presence.

The kind of outcome Joel had been trying to prevent when he’d brought you on patrol with him in the first place. The kind of sound he was trying to fuck out of your body completely; teach you to keep quiet and still for when the two of you inevitably got bored during perimeter watch and rolled the sleeping bag out to fuck.

Joel tensed above you and cast a quick look around. Sure, he’d picked a decently safe spot, but then you—

“Joel, I—”

Without thinking, the man stopped and stuck the first thing he could possibly fit in your mouth: his thumb. Whatever you’d been trying to say to him was promptly lost in a hum against his knuckle, lips enveloping the thick, callused digit like some tangy-flavored lolly. Joel’s hips sank back into yours, slowly, and he felt the reverberations of another moan spill over his finger.

He swallowed and stared. That shouldn’t have been nearly as sexy as you’d just made it seem, especially when your life and his hung in such a precarious position.

Joel dragged his cock back out and happened to graze a sensitive, spongy ridge inside you, which made you moan again. You hollowed your cheeks and gritted your teeth a bit more against his thumb, gripping Joel’s forearm for support as he continued to fuck you.

And, had you stayed like that a moment longer, you probably would’ve seen a shiny string of drool start to pool and stretch and fall out from one side of his mouth. Instead, Joel switched hands and popped the thumb that had been toying with your clit into your mouth, eyes glazed over with desire as they drank in the sight of you sucking his thumb again. The tip was still soaked with your warmth and slipped easily past your parted lips.

Another sound bubbled up your throat when you got a taste—Joel had always been in the habit of kissing you after eating you out, so you were well-acquainted with the flavor, but never had he fed you your own arousal on his finger. This felt obscene, something more than just pornographic as those deep, brown, lust-addled irises remained glued to where your lips closed around him.

“Y’like that, huh?” he said, voice reduced to a whisper once more while you nipped and suckled at the skin.

You bobbed your head to indicate yes, opened your mouth to tell him softly that you liked it so much—loved the taste and grit of his finger on your tongue, in fact. You wanted to show him you could be vocal, too, when Joel’s frame rose over yours a little more and seemed to blanket it entirely. Like he wanted to shield you, in a way.

“Shhhh, shhh…keep suckin’ like that. Stay still, okay?” Joel murmured, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out that this was a test. He was nodding, rutting gently between your legs, wedging his thumb deeper inside the wet, velvety contours of your mouth and waiting for a look from you to say that you understood.

You weren’t sure if you did, but you nodded anyway. Joel’s thumb made a wonderful sort of makeshift gag as he continued to thrust inside of you, his body somehow lowering to get even closer to yours. When he’d gotten sufficiently near, he pressed a kiss to the side of your mouth—now stuffed with his thumb and leaking spit—and muttered something about how good you were for him, how nicely you fit around his cock. Then he tilted his hips and proceeded to pound you into the ground like an animal in heat. The only thing separating your ass from the patch of grass underneath it was a flimsy little blanket, and the only thing tethering you to earth, it seemed, was Joel’s cock. Your ankles locked behind his back, and his nose settled next to yours, breathing hard.

Even if he knew how to suppress his moans, the panting and strangled gasps were far beyond Joel’s control—as were the filthy, perverse words pouring out of his mouth.

“‘S’all mine, ain’t she, hon? Tell me this pussy’s mine.”

“Tell me she’s mine to fuck, stuff full’a cum, right here.”

And he gestured to the spot where your body stopped and his began, squelching noises punctuating each new thrust. Neither one of you minded the sound right now, especially when you knew where this was headed next.

Joel was grinning against your skin before he kissed it.

“She wants a baby, doesn’t she, honey? Wants me to put a baby in her and make that belly swell up pretty?”

You knew just as well as Joel that neither of you wanted children in a world like this—thoughts of breeding only occurred to you both when you were about to cum. Particularly when Joel’s thumb was slipping out of your mouth and his fingers were pinching either side of your face in a single grip, lips moving above yours. Making you meet his gaze as he squeezed your cheeks in a pout.

“You want my babies, baby?” Joel mumbled.

You felt a familiar twitch in his cock. You nodded.

Joel pinched harder and shook his head, unsatisfied.

“Say, ‘I want your babies, Joel.’”

“I want your babies, Joel.”

“Say, ‘I’ll be nice and quiet if you cum inside me.’”

“I’ll be nice and quiet if you cum inside me, please, Joel.”

Your voice was already hoarse from how low you had to whisper, how hard Joel’s broad and hefty stomach was pressing into your own, stealing the breath from your lungs and wreaking havoc on your brain as you struggled for air and imagined a world where your tummy was a little rounder. Plugged up with his cum one day and growing bigger with his child there inside you the next. The thought was dizzying in the abstract, enticing to the slightest degree in reality, and if you had to guess from the expression of the man currently sweating, grunting, and rutting into your body, you’d bet he felt the same.

It really was a shame you had to stay so quiet.

But, whether a clicker was five miles away or standing directly over his shoulder, Joel didn’t seem to care at all. Soft, silent reserve cast aside for the time being and hips slamming a bruising pace against your own, Joel seemed fine to let out sounds to show he was right about to cum. Grunts and whimpers were spilling left and right off his filthy, pretty tongue; his eyes were all but rolling back.

Truly, he couldn’t look more magnificent if he tried.

“Fuck, baby, I’m— I’m so close. Gonna fill you up.”

Featherlight clusters of soft grey hair were now darkened with sweat. They rested comfortably across his forehead. Under them, two thick brows furrowed in concentration.

“Gonna knock you up,” he added through gritted teeth.

That part was not a threat, but a promise.

You felt a tug and a pinch in your own stomach, signaling your oncoming release. You spread your legs wider for Joel, pressed a kiss to his jaw when he leaned in closer, made room for him to spill his load just how he wanted, and when it seemed he was a second from his peak—

A twig snapped nearby.

Both of you froze in place.

#JOEL MILLER TELLING ME TO SHUT MY F*CKING MOUTH MIGHT ACTUALLY HEAL ME #OR MAKE ME MUCH MUCH WORSE #POTENTIALLY #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #the last of us fic #the last of us #tlou

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clockwayswrites · 4 months ago

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One birdritch, two stones.

part idk, 10? I'm so tired. masterpost

“Mr. Drake-Wayne, do I want to know why you’re here?” Lucius drawled without looking up from his desk.

Tim plastered on a smile anyways. “Well, in an effort to learn the business as part of my internship, I thought that it was about time that I took a proper look at R&D.”

“Yes, it would be good for you to see R&D,” Lucius said as he signed something with a flourish before he folded his hands and looked up at Tim, “but you are not going to.”

“No?”

“No.”

Tim let the door close behind him and came to flop into the seat across from Lucius. “Uncle Fox—”

“That worked much better when you were small and doe-eyed.”

“Okay, let’s be honest,” Tim said with a sigh, “I’m still small and doe-eyed. None of them will let me live that fact down. I have to use what I have, Lu.”

Finally Lucius cracked a little bit of a smile. He leaned forward and pressed a discrete button on his desk. Tim knew that the button would make the office soundproof, an effect that Tim felt in the back of his ears.

“Danny Fenton— and let me be clear, it is Danny, not Daniel— Danny Fenton is one of the best people I have in R&D. I will not have you all losing me one of my best because you lot do not know how how to be subtle.”

“Lucius, we can be subtle!” Tim said, honestly offended. “We do subtle all the time. You know how well I do undercover.”

“Exactly,” Lucius said severely.

Tim tilted his head.

“Undercover you is subtle. Tim Drake-Wayne you is a menace,” Lucius said. “That last name is a pox upon common sense.”

Tim opened his mouth to argue before he slowly closed it and slumped back into his seat.

“I had been considering bringing him as the engineer for the other side of you all,” Lucius said, almost idly, “but whatever happened spooked him. He booked the end of the week off. Mr. Fenton never takes time off. Whatever you are after it will wait until after he returns, understand?”

“Understood,” Tim said with resignation.

The only reason that Danny didn’t screech and drop the component he was holding was because he was used to ghosts. The person who had appeared sitting on top of Danny’s cabinet like they had always been there wasn’t a ghost, but the behavior was close enough. Danny took a steadying breath and set the part carefully on one of his work benches.

“Hello.”

The off person smiled cheerfully and brought their right hand up into an almost salute.

Danny tilted his head for a moment before he brain kicked in and he repeated the motion back before pointing to the person then tapping his index to his chin and then next to his ear while purposefully screwing his face up into confusion.

They shook their head and brought their hand to their throat, turning it like they were locking a key, before making a so-so motion with their hand.

“Oh! Okay, I’m Danny,” he explained as he pointed to himself and brought his right hand in the sign for d up along his flat left hand.

They repeated Danny’s name sign with a cheerful smile before they pointed to themselves and moved the cupped hand of C over their flat left hand. They repeated the point before finger spelling out ‘Cass’.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Cass. I’m rusty at ASL, but if you can go slow for me, I’ll try my best.”

“Thank you,” Cass signed with a bright smile.

“Are you lost, or do you mean to be up there?” Danny asked.

Cass shook their head. “Comfortable. What is that?”

“Oh, what I’m working on. Well… nothing yet, not if it doesn’t work. It’s supposed to be something for improved water filtration though.”

“Explain?”

“Sure. Tap twice on the cabinet if you need my attention or have a question and I’m not looking your way, okay?” Danny asked. He waited for a nod before he grabbed what he was working on and started explaining the idea.

Thankfully the fact that WE was working on a way to further reduce industrial water pollution was no secret so as long as Danny didn’t get particularity technical, he shouldn’t get in trouble with with his NDA. Besides, whoever this was was inside a secure part of WE and did have a badge, even if it wasn’t colors that Danny recognized off the top of his head.

Cass was oddly fun to chat with and the two of them got into a rhythm of him explaining something and following it up with a question of his own. Cass did give verbal responses or reactions occasionally, but mostly Danny settled into a position where he could both work and watch them sign in his periphery at the same time. He wasn’t perfect at understanding what Cass was talking about, but they seemed happy enough to repeat things for him or finger spell when he was really lost.

“A lead role? You should be really proud of yourself, Cass! That’s amazing,” Danny said with a bright smile as he fought a stubborn tapper.

“You will come?”

Danny blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“The recital,” Cass finger spelled out before repeated, “You will come?”

“I don’t know, Cass honey,” Danny said, the endearment slipping out without him thinking about it. “That would really depend on what your adults have to say about the idea. I don’t want them to freak out because you’ve decided to befriend a random R&D flunky.”

“Luckily Cass is a very good judge of character,” said someone from behind Danny.

Fucking hell, what was it with people just appearing today? Danny gave himself a second to close his eyes before he set down his tapper and turned around.

Ancients that’s Bruce Wayne.

“I hope she hasn’t been bothering you. Cass was supposed to wait in my office while I dealt with the emergency,” Mr. Wayne said with a pointed look at his daughter. “Even if it did take longer than expected.”

Right daughter, because Danny had been talking with Cassandra Wayne for the last few hours.

“Oh, no, not at all Mr. Wayne—”

“Bruce.”

“Bruce. And don’t worry, she’s great company,” Danny said.

Mr. Wayne— Bruce chuckled and stepped into Danny’s office. He’d hardly moved before Cass was flinging herself off the cabinet and into her dad’s arms. As soon as she was set down, she started signing rapidly at him and Danny looked away to give them some privacy.

“Well, that is up to your new friend,” Bruce said in that sort of tone that Danny knew he was being included in the conversation now.

“Danny Fenton, but just Danny is fine,” he said.

Cass signed Danny’s name sign.

“Or that,” Danny agreed with a nod.

“Well, Danny,” Bruce said with a smile that made his eyes crinkle a little, “if you’d like, Cass would love to have you at the opening so you can see what she’s been telling you about, but if you’re busy we’d understand.”

Cass’ pout said otherwise and Danny caved quicker than a paper cocktail umbrella in a tornado. “If you can send me the date and where to buy a ticket, I’ll be there.”

“Nonsense, the ticket is on me,” Bruce said. “I’ll be sure to send you the date and time, I doubt Cass will let me forget.”

“No,” Cass signed with an overly angelic smile.

Danny chuckled and couldn’t help but wonder if all of Bruce’s children had him so thoroughly wrapped around their finger like that, or if Cass had only daughter privileges. “Well, I look forward to it. And it was very nice to get to meet you, Cass.”

“Yes! Goodbye, Danny,” Cass signed.

“Goodbye, Cass,” Danny signed back and returned the little nod Bruce sent him before they left Danny’s office.

Danny waited until they were out of sight to let out a breath. Ancients, well, that was something. Who would have thought that the first time he actually spoke to the owner of the company would be because his daughter decided water filtration was interesting an that Danny needed to learn all about ‘Swan Lake’ in return?

“Cass, darling,” Bruce said with a pointed look at his too smug daughter.

“He’s nice,” she explained with a shrug.

Bruce just sighed and shook his head. At least that did seem true. Bruce had watched some of the exchange between Danny and Cass and he was patient, respectful, and attentive even despite the occasional communication issue.

But that hardly answered any of what was going on.

“Just don’t overwhelm him, alright?”

Cass nodded and crossed her heart.

Bruce didn’t believe her for a moment.

---

AN: I did my best to describe the signs right/use the right ones but my knowledge is only very, very basic conversational skills so if I have anything wrong, please let me know! (I write Cass very to the point response wise when she verbally speaks, so kept that same sort of cadence here.)

Oh, since someone asked Danny is just slightly older than he would be it canon time continued normally, so late 30's. Bruce is early 40's.

#dp x dc #spirit halloween ship #birdritch

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anantaru · 5 months ago

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ONE KISS IS ALL IT TAKES ... OR MORE? — SCARAMOUCHE

your boyfriend scaramouche can be so grumpy sometimes, but you know of a couple ways that will make him show his soft side, wc. 1.3k

・✶ ｡ warnings — heavily making out & tit play, fem! reader, fluff, established relationship, grumpy scaramouche

it's not difficult for you to discern whenever your boyfriend scaramouche was grumpy after a long day and you could already hear it from afar, not needing to see him— the familiar sounds of grumbling and frustrated sighs flowing from his lips to your ears even before you entered your shared apartment.

to be clear, you really don't mind your boyfriend being in one of his moods again, it was quite normal to you and in all honesty, there was nothing more inside of you than a burning impulse of wanting to help him as good as you could.

you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what might've been the reason this particular night.

right as you walked into your bedroom, you found him lividly pacing back and forth, his brows furrowed and his lips set in a tight line of frustration, agitated to the point where he didn't even acknowledge your presence, too wrapped up in whatever was bothering him.

"hey, are you okay?" you ask him gently, stepping a bit closer before setting your jacket on the bed, not taking your gaze off him.

"hah, what? oh, yeah, totally fine, totally okay," he mutters back, awkwardly glancing at you before resuming his pacing, giving you a cold shoulder— and ah, he did this often, for scaramouche it was difficult to actually open up but also, the last thing he wanted was to somewhat drag you down with him.

"those people in the akademiya just, they're, ugh, aggravating, you know? they don't under- understand me, they don't listen, they don't leave me alone,"

"they also can't stop staring and muttering their little mouths to death."

you listen patiently, nodding contently as he vented out his frustrations while ever so often attempting to stop himself by biting into his lower lip— and well, scaramouche had a big tendency to get grumpy pretty easily, and it often took him a while to wind down but talking to you helped, even if it takes him a little to actually do it.

not to mention that you knew the secret to calming him down, always, achieving great relaxation in softening the expression on his face.

you take his hand, guiding him to the edge of the bed as he flinches he moment you touched him, "come over there," you motion towards the bed as he nods, pulling him down to sit beside you, "relax, okay? you're home now."

"i can't relax right now," he barks back, furrowing his brows although he can never resist your welcoming, more so warm embrace as you tugged him closer to your chest, "how can people be so stupid there? aren't they supposed to be geniuses or something?"

you couldn't suppress a laugh, chuckling as you tenderly run a hand through his tousled hair, "maybe you're just too smart, ever thought about that?" you add and listen to him as he exhales shakily through his mouth.

but the man grumbles and you could swear you saw a smile, a slight pucker of his lips when you called him smart, seeing it as a small victory in itself before you shift closer, your arms wrapped around his neck.

he reacts to your touch immediately, his body tense against yours as you just hugged him for a while, holding him gently and waiting until you felt him start to relax.

"breathe and— and just feel me, okay?" you utter.

he sighs but you know whenever he sighs just like that, when the tension in his soul and body eases a bit more, "you're too good to me, keeping up with this," he frowns, his voice losing some of it's earlier sharp edge as it attains a pillowy note.

"ah, i know," you tease, "—don't have to tell me that all the time," as you playfully roll your eyes, kissing his cheek, "kidding, i love all sides of you."

"feeling better already?" you ask him, "now that i'm here?" your voice barely above a whisper.

"maybe, only a little though," you're helping and he knows it, he's both in love and scared by how well you already knew him by now.

his gaze flickers to your lips and back to your eyes, "there's something that would make me feel better, great even,"

a curious expression dances over your cheekbones, a playful smile tugging at your precious lips, "oh, really now? what are you thinking about?"

and instead of answering you with words, he captures your lips in a kiss that was a cross between a need and a fleeting frustration, an eager want that quickly deepened the kiss between you. you tug at his hair, pushing him into your lips as he kissed you like a man starved of love and lust, his tongue moving over yours in a hunger well beyond desperation.

the intensity multiplied in seconds, in every touch and every swipe of tongue— scaramouche was eager, he made sure to kiss you even harder as his hands roamed freely over your chest, leaving you short of breath.

never in a million years was his touch not possessive, not almost desperate to the point where you immediately needed more— although it was easy to discern that there was an underlying reason as to why scaramouche kissed you that way, it's as if he was afraid you might slip away if he didn't hold you tight enough.

you broke the kiss only long enough to gasp for air, looking into his doughy eyes as your heart knocks and knocks against your chest, his facial expression drowsy and clouded, his lips swollen and glistening, "scara," you whine, your thighs pressing together.

"hmm?" he just hums an answer, not giving you a chance to say more before capturing your lips yet again, another kiss that was even more fervent than the last one he has given you.

he helps you get onto his lap before one hand slipped under your shirt to play with your tits, instantly targeting your erected nipples with a playful pinch and tug.

you shiver and moan his name, your body responding to his touch with a need that barely matched his own.

he shifts the both of you before pressing you into the bed, his body on top of yours and his lips searching for your neck as it elicits a hefty gasp from your throat.

scaramouche laughs with a deep groan as he continues to pinch your nipples and squeeze your pretty tits, his bangs sticking against his forehead and only showing the pace he was going for.

"scara, please— please," you whine, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you arch into his touch.

he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with desire, "please what, hmm?" he asks teasingly, like he doesn't know what he's doing to you— as if he's not fully aware on how to get you to this point.

his voice was now, consisting of a low growl that sent shivers down your spine before he grabs at his clothed cock to show you what you're doing to him, stroking the obvious bulge in his pants and hissing as he grinds his cock into his palm.

"please don't stop," you whisper and cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you before your voice trembles in need, "i need you, it feels so good,"

ah, what was the reason he was grumpy about again? because archons— scaramouche swears he forgot, he can forget just about anything when he hears you say that you need him.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles #wanderer x reader #wanderer smut #scaramouche x you

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riansdiary · 1 month ago

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IT ALREADY HAPPENED! MANIFESTATION IS NOT A PROCESS! IT'S DONE THE MOMENT YOU DECIDE YOU HAVE IT!

Manifestation is instant. The 3d is only waiting for your validation. You just have to accept that your desire is now yours and tell yourself that it is instant and manifestation is NOT a process.

I have Taylor Tookes to thank today for awakening me from being pulled into the whirlpool of programming again that you need to work hard or that manifestation is a process and that you need to affirm to make the reflection change when all we need to do is to fully accept that we have our desires now.

IT 👏 ALREADY 👏 HAPPENED 👏

What would you think if you have it now? Think as if it already happened and not for changing the reflection. That's the key for me. It's not making manifesting a process and affirming like crazy until you get it.

YOU GET IT WHEN YOU DECIDE THAT YOU HAVE IT NOW. YOU HAVE THE INNER KNOWING THAT IT'S YOURS AND IT'S DONE. YOU'RE NOT WAITING FOR ANYTHING! THE 3D IS JUST WAITING FOR YOU TO ACCEPT THAT IT'S YOURS AND TO VALIDATE YOURSELF.

You shouldn't be concerned about the 3d when you manifest because literally all you ever need to do is to accept that it's yours, think that it already happened because if you say that it did then it happened already!

Perfect example of this is the scene in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's/Philosopher Stone.

It was when Harry was getting the stone from the Mirror of Erised. His deepest desire was to see his parents and not to use the stone so the mirror gave it to him and he saw it happening in the mirror. The mirror was set to give the stone to someone who wants to find the stone and not to use it. He then felt the stone in his pocket and he got it.

This is how manifesting is but let me explain to you how.

The mirror of Erised = imagination/knowing you have it and it already happened

The 3d = the reality where Harry was

Sorcerer's/Philosopher's Stone = your desire

All you really need to manifest is decide what you want, decide that you have it now (it already happened), you fully accept and know that it's done and you get your desire because you said so.

YOU 👏 ARE 👏 THE 👏 VALIDATION! AND NOT THE 3D. THE 3D WAITS FOR YOU TO ACCEPT IT AND IT REFLECTS THAT.

You do not focus all your attention on the 3d when manifesting. You don't even have to do techniques except to affirm naturally like it already happened (think as if) and remind yourself every now and then. Have that inner knowing that you have this thing now because you decided so! Know it's done now. You could literally just affirm it is done or it already happened or it's already done and you're set!

There's nothing that says 3d in that because changing the 3d is not your job. Plus forget about it, it's not included in manifestation because once again...

IT 👏 IS 👏 JUST 👏 AN 👏 EFFECT 👏 OF 👏 YOUR 👏 MANIFESTATION 👏

The cause is you deciding you have it now and fully accepting that and not waiting for it. Let me stress on another important thing:

AFFIRM 👏 OR 👏 THINK 👏 THAT 👏 IT 👏 ALREADY 👏 HAPPENED 👏

NOT YOU AFFIRMING TO GET OR TO MAKE SOMETHING HAPPEN.

Trust me, this is coming straight from my experience cause I did that and it is just focusing on lack and the old story and being desperate when it is supposed to be simple and easy. We have complicated this long enough.

Your job is deciding what you want and accepting that it's yours now. Knowing that it's done.

I found Taylor's videos to be helpful and she woke me up from making it a process. I truly wanna recommend her or Hyler because they're both helping me right now to understand even better.

I was testing this while I was listening to Taylor's "I don't agree with checking the 3d" video, I made YouTube float on the screen while I played Roblox Tower of Misery.

I said it naturally and not for the purpose of making something happen, rather in the mindset of it already happened.

I said in my mind "Omg someone bought immunity? That's great. Thank you." I said it like it already happened and I fully accepted that it's done.

I knew it was done and yes it happened a few seconds after I said that. Does that make it a process? No. It's just an effect of me knowing it was done. It's just the 3d conforming but I already knew it happened so I was not surprised at all. This is how manifesting is supposed to be and I know this will help a lot of people.

I'm posting this short post about it because that is all you need. I don't wanna complicate this simple law any further. That's it and let me remind you again:

It already happened.

#law of assumption #manifestation #manifesting #lawofassumption #loassumption #how to manifest #subliminals #loa success #loa advice #loablr #loa tumblr #loa blog #loa #law of assumption success

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j-jared · 7 months ago

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Danny judges the Family Business

Danny: How many kids do you have? How many vigilantes are in Gotham right now?

Batman: ... you know how many.

Danny: Seriously, your grandson too? Couldn't stick to just yourself?

Flash: Can we not?

Danny: ... I mean I sorta understand the clone thing makes it murky water, but COME ON!

Superman: *sweating*

And finally, finally, they have enough of the lectures. They know Danny's identity, they know of his parents, his sister. So they ask.

Batman: Would you not tell your parents if you needed help.

Danny: I chose not to tell my parents! My dad has his own section on the news if he's out driving, I don't want them on my team!

JL: .. What?

Danny: I mean, yeah, they'd be helpful on the government research side of things, but... You guys obviously looked into this, they can't aim for shit most of the time! They cause more property damage than any of the ghosts do in the longterm. My dad would probably shout out my name each time he saw me on patrol. Besides, they've calmed down the whoke vivisection thing, they're more like... safari people now. If the ghosts aren't actively attacking, they watch and make notes to study behavior.

Wonderwoman: And your sister? She helped you did she not?

Danny: Yeah, when I was 14 and freshly dead? Believe me, the moment she had an out we both took it. She's studying out in California now, and she's only stepping in for emergencies. Like, end of the dimension emergencies, not 'Oh I've been stabbed again' emergencies.

-----

I find the idea that Danny lectures the JL about the younger heroes and like, making sure they aren't prioritizing hero work out of duty really funny. This undead boy took up his own duty when the only other option was his parents and their inventions (one of which actually killed him by opening a door to another dimension) and felt obliged to deal with the ghosts for both the living and the dead's sakes. He opened the portal, he'll clean up the mess while keeping everyone safe. Sam and Tucker got to help, but once he got control of his powers (maybe once he gets the crown and authority in a Ghost King setting), he's offered them outs as well. They take them slightly. They step in for the heavy hitters, but generally Phantom flies solo; besides JL business. Maybe Dani joins in, but she's her own free spirit so it's not like she sticks around long.

Danny wants to know that all these younger heroes are there because they wanna be, not sacrificing a normal life because of feeling pressured or needing to live up to the expectations of their guardians/mentors.

And I know the JL care about these kids, Danny just ain't sure (He can glance at the BatClan and just smell the death and drama) - and he wants to be. These kids better have a healthy work-life balance, so help him Ancients.

#dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp #dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc prompt #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #ghost king danny phantom #justice league #batman #superman #flash #wonderwoman

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just-jordie-things · 1 year ago

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if you look, you can tell - fushiguro megumi

word count: 6k warnings: swearing, i think that’s it summary: megumi finds himself eavesdropping a conversation between the rest of his classmates when he hears his name pop up. the way you jump to his defense and have only sweet things to say about him has him second guessing the way he feels about you. ___

“It just doesn’t really make sense to me. I get you guys are friends and all, but how can someone like you be friends with someone so…. Cold?”

Megumi was never really one for eavesdropping. Not only because it was immature and would only cause drama, but because he’d never really felt a need to. He can’t recall a conversation he’d ever stumbled upon that he deemed interesting enough to listen in on. In fact, he’d rather find that everyone else was busy with conversation so he could slip out and do his own thing unnoticed. A habit he’d picked up in his younger years when he still shared a living space with the white haired special grade sorcerer.

But for some reason, right now was different.

Maybe it was because he was the topic of conversation. Maybe because Itadori, Kugisaki, and (y/n) were the ones around the corner. Or maybe it was because something tugged on his heart strings when he heard Nobara’s admission.

He was headed to the common room to retrieve the book he’d left in there this morning, and hadn’t even realized all three of his classmates had the evening off from training and assignments. He’d heard that they were talking as he’d approached, but didn’t halt in his steps until he realized they were talking about him.

“I think he can be nice,” Itadori defended weakly. “I mean… I just met him, I guess,” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, realizing he didn’t actually have much evidence to back up his statement. But he was too nice of a guy to straight up gossip about his new classmate. “Maybe he’s just quiet?”

(y/n) nodded thoughtfully, knowing this to be true. She figured she knew him better than the two newbies, and that was why they’d come to her with their curiosities about the stoic shikigami user. Having been born and raised in Tokyo, she’d been introduced to Megumi long before they enrolled at Jujutsu Tech. Although their friendship hadn’t truly sparked until their enrollment, she’d known him enough to understand him, his mannerisms, his fighting style, his strict routine- all of these things that she’d never really thought twice about before, she now realized sort of made her the on site Megumi- Expert. She even chuckled a little bit at the thought.

Because back then, back when she first met the grumpy boy that was thrust before her by one Gojo Satoru, with an eager grin and the promise of “Look Megs, a friend your age!” She would have never thought she’d be in this position now.

“Megumi has always been reserved” She agrees to Itadori’s comment, but her voice is distant, clouded with something else as her mind grows too occupied.

It took some time after their first meeting for Megumi to grow on her. Understandably, because he wasn’t exactly looking to grow on her. He wasn’t looking for friends his age- he wasn’t looking for friends at all, really. Whatever disease that had riddled his guardian’s mind in order to have him setting up playdates with this girl must have been fatal. Or at least he’d hoped.

Time and time again she was dropped off at the Gojo-Fushiguro residence, or at the park where they were expected to play. Time and time again Megumi barely spoke, barely looked at her, and hoped his blatant disinterest would be enough to deter Gojo from setting up anymore of the stupid playdates.

And honestly, (y/n) never really knew when that changed, or understood why it changed. Her lip was caught between her teeth now as she thought it over, trying to trace back her steps to find the point in time where their acquaintanceship blossomed into true friendship, which she could confidently call their relationship now.

“Yeah, does he ever let anyone in?” Nobara scoffed, but she didn’t mean for it to come across as harsh as it sounded. She had just felt awkward whenever she was around the raven haired boy, not knowing how to fill the silence as easily as Itadori. “It just doesn’t make sense to me,”

From where he stood around the corner, Megumi slumped against the wall. This is when he should have walked away, and forgotten he’d ever heard anything. He shouldn’t have cared what they were saying about him, and he shouldn’t have been surprised that the new students didn’t feel buddy-buddy with him. But there was some invisible force keeping him firmly in place, and intrigue won over logic in his mind as he waited to hear the rest of the conversation.

“I get you guys are friends and all, but how can someone like you be friends with someone so…” Nobara trailed off, and Megumi felt his heart drop to his stomach.

He shouldn’t care. This shouldn’t matter. But then Nobara finally found the word she was looking for, and Megumi had never felt an ache in his chest quite like this before.

“Cold?”

Cold? His mind clung onto the word, picking it apart viciously. Is that really what everyone thought of him? Is that really the image of himself everyone perceived? Again, he supposed he wasn’t the most expressive person, it wasn’t like he expected them to be singing his praises, but he certainly hadn’t expected that.

Before he could convince himself that he was being silly, he found himself frowning. Never before had he cared what anyone thought. As someone who actively kept people at arm's length, Megumi couldn’t think of a time he ever thought twice about someone else’s opinion of him.

And just as he’s ready to scoff and walk away, forgetting his book once more and deciding to never think about this moment of weakness again.

But then (y/n’s) speaking up.

“Cold?” She repeats the word, and Megumi stops in his tracks again at the tone of voice she takes. His brows furrow and he’s leaning against the wall again, trying to decipher what the emotion that riddled her tone was. Anger? He wondered, puzzled. Humor?

Raising from his stomach like it had been brought back to life, his heart stutters in his chest.

“Megumi’s anything but cold,” (y/n) argues, in that same tone of voice that he’d never heard before. She follows it with a chuckle that sounds anything but humored. “He’s the warmest person I know”

Really? Megumi almost laughs to himself before remembering he was trying to stay hidden.

“Really?” Nobara gapes back at her, and (y/n) nods furiously.

“Absolutely,” She declares, firm in her stance. “I’ve never met anyone like him. He’s one of the kindest, most caring people I’ve ever known, you just have to know him, I suppose,”

Honestly, hearing her argument, Megumi’s not all that sure what she’s talking about. But he continues to hover in the hallway, now dying to know more.

“Megumi’s not like everyone else,” (y/n) says, her voice softening as she tries to explain her old friend’s habits to her new friends. “He’s quiet, yeah, he’s always been that way. But he’s not cold. He’s quite the opposite. He… he has a really big heart…” She trails off, chuckling to herself a bit.

I don’t know about that, Megumi thought bitterly, only for his face to heat up at such a sweet accusation.

“He probably wouldn’t say the same,” (y/n) speaks his thoughts exactly. “But it’s true. Megumi shows he cares through actions, not words”

“Ohh..” Nobara and Yuuji spoke in unison.

(y/n) giggled a bit at the both of them.

“He’ll grow on you,” She tells them kindly. “It takes time, but… Megumi’s one of the greatest friends anyone could ask for. I’m certainly lucky to have him in my life”

If Megumi wasn’t blushing before, he certainly was now. Even though no one was around to see, he found himself tucking his face into the collar of his jacket to hide the way his cheeks flushed with color at her openly affectionate words.

“Wow, (y/n), that’s really sweet,” Yuuji cooed. “You must be very close, how long have you known each other?”

“Well, a while,” (y/n) thought it over. “Gojo tried to set us up as best friends when we were younger. But I wouldn’t say it really worked till a year or so ago. But I mean what I said, I respect him a lot. He’s a really good person,”

Really? Megumi smiled to himself at such a blatant lie. She would think that.

“He always helps me when I need it, especially when it comes to training, or studying,” (y/n) goes on to explain.

Well, he supposed that was true. But he just wanted her to excel in their field, she had so much potential, it was only right to help her when she needed it.

“And he is kind of a secret gentleman,” She goes on, dropping her voice as though sharing a secret. “Even before we were close, he’d carry my things for me, or open the door, pull out my chair…” She trails off as she recalls all the instances.

Megumi nodded to himself, confirming that she was telling the truth. But that was just the right thing to do, Gojo had raised him right in that area, after all. You treat women with respect, but he also believed in treating people the way he wanted to be treated. Those two things seemed to overlap when it came to her. So again, he realized that (y/n) was right about him. He was starting to wonder if she knew him better than he gave her credit for. Or even better than he knew himself.

“There was one time when we were younger…” She smiles at the memory. “We stole a cookie out of Gojo’s stash, he broke it in half for us, and then gave me the bigger piece”

Nobara and Yuuji take note of the way her eyes glaze over with fondness as she remembers the day. They hadn’t even been friends yet, it was one of the instances where she was dropped off and left with him for hours in the hopes of the two of them becoming friends. In fact, that particular day, she’d spent most of the time flipping through magazines with Tsumiki. Thinking about it now, however, (y/n) wonders if that was the first bridge between them. The uneven halves of a chocolate chip cookie being a shared secret from the white haired man knocked out on the living room couch. She makes the mental note to ask Megumi if he remembers it that way.

“Aww!” Nobara clasps her hands together as she fawns over the simple memory. (y/n) can’t help but laugh a little at the way her classmates treat Megumi’s soft side. “He must’ve had a ‘widdle crush on you!” She teases in a cartoonish voice.

Megumi’s eyes widened upon hearing the declaration. Had he come across that way? His heartbeat picked up with anxiety, and he worried about what (y/n) would have to say next.

Because he certainly didn’t have a crush on her. All those nice things he did for her, he did because they were friends, they were all things friends would do, right? Helping her with training, carrying her bag when she complained about her back hurting, cooking her dinner when she said she hadn’t eaten all day, taking her to that movie she wanted to see even though he thought it was predictable and cheesy- Megumi was sure that was just being a good friend. Whether or not he wanted to do those things for her was out of the question.

Just as she’d said- he showed he cared through actions.

Nevermind what he thought. Nevermind if she was the prettiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Nevermind if she had the kindest heart he ever had the pleasure- or luck- of meeting. Nevermind if she proved time and time again that she was the most wonderful person through and through-

Megumi thought he was going to throw up just thinking about it. But he couldn’t help himself. He thinks about her most hours of the day, he realizes now. He waits for her to text him back, he wonders what she’s doing when he’s not around, tons of things reminded him of her. That flower she pointed out in the garden, anything that was her favorite color, when it rained, when the sun was shining, hell, even his own shikigami made her cross his mind.

Fuck.

He shakes his head as he tries to ground himself back to reality. None of that was really evidence of him having deeper feelings for her though, was it? He could care about her strongly as a friend, couldn’t he? How stereotypical was he for second guessing himself as soon as he cared about his friend who was a girl. A pretty girl. They were capable of being friends without romantic tension.

But then again, if she were to make a move, he wouldn’t exactly push her away, would he?

His face feels impossibly hotter at the question he raised to himself. What a tricky answer that was, indeed. The gears in his brain began to malfunction and break down over how simple the answer that came to him was.

“I don’t know about that…” (y/n’s) voice softens as she trails off.

Something unfamiliar bubbles up in Megumi’s stomach. It feels like he’s eaten too many sweets and washed it down with pure alcohol. It’s bubbly, and sickeningly sweet. It makes the tips of his fingers buzz and the corners of his lips tug into an uncontrollable smile. He’s not sure if he hates the feeling or wants to chase after it.

“Well, you should ask him out!” Yuuji cheers.

“Wh- what?” (y/n) stammers back.

“I bet he’d say yes,” The pink haired boy says with a bright smile of affirmation. “You’re definitely his favorite, and he stares at you a lot”

I do?

“He does?” (y/n) asks, sounding a little breathless.

Was she surprised? Horrified? Megumi couldn’t tell. He was dying to see the look on her face, so he could get a proper read on how she was processing all of this.

“Oh yeah. I see him staring at you all the time” Yuuji confirms.

“Me too” Nobara chimes in.

“Honestly, I thought you guys were dating when I first got here” Yuuji adds.

He did?

“You did?” (y/n) can’t help the small chuckle that comes out of her. “Why?”

“Dunno,” Yuuji shrugs. “He stands close to you. And most of the time when he talks it’s just to you. I just thought it was flirting”

No you idiot, I just don’t need anyone eavesdropping on- oh… Megumi drags his hand over his face, tugging on his skin as his eyes roll back. Fuck, he was the biggest idiot on the planet.

Of course he had a crush on her. How long had he not noticed? Or had it always been there?

(y/n’s) giggling pulls him out of his train of thoughts. Cute and bubbly, he can tell from their sound that she’s shaking her head in disbelief.

“No, no, you’ve got it all wrong,” She tries to deter her new friends from going down that path, but her voice has that same soft and sweet tone that Megumi hopes he’s not reading into when he thinks she’s hopeful that they could have it all right. “We’ve known each other for a while. I think if something were to happen it would’ve happened already”

It’s quiet for a beat, and Megumi’s heart is pounding so hard in his chest now he can feel it in his ears. It’s upsetting and distracting, as he’s dying to hear more of this conversation. He worries he might’ve picked up a real knack for spying, but he can’t think of anything more interesting than this.

“You say that like you want something to happen,” Nobara teases. “Are you the one with a crush?”

With every second that passes before (y/n’s) response, Megumi frets he’s going to pass out. He’s sure his body is going to hit the ground giving away his embarrassing eavesdropping.

“I…” (y/n) starts but trails off. Megumi wishes he could peek around the wall and watch the scene unfold. He’s sure that if he could see her, he could deduce her answer for himself.

If she was fidgeting, then he could confirm that she did, in fact, harbor a crush on him.

If she was standing still out of shock from the idea, then he’d know she thought the idea was preposterous, and there wasn’t a chance she felt anything more for him.

“I haven’t thought about it” She finishes quietly.

There’s some shuffling of feet and a distant hmmph from Nobara’s disbelief, or intrigue, maybe. Either way, the conversation must’ve been done. Yuuji was shouting goodbyes as he left the room to meet up with Maki for rigorous training. Nobara followed suit shortly after, claiming she had nothing better to do so watching Maki train was the perfect way to spend her afternoon.

(y/n) laughed and waved goodbye to her friends. Once they were out of sight she let out a shaky exhale.

Jesus, that was close, she thought as she finally made her way to the couch, ready to collapse and relax. Her heart had been racing in her chest for the last few minutes and she needed a break from Yuuji and Nobara’s prying eyes. She was sure they’d seen right through her, sure they’d been able to tell she was lying through her teeth.

Just as she was about to fall onto the cushions and let the couch take her into a much needed afternoon nap, she noticed a thick hardcover book had been left behind. There was a bookmark sticking out of it halfway between the covers, but all of the pages before it were littered with small sticky notes. She’d recognized it right away, if not for remembering this was the book Megumi had been reading all week, she’d deduce it was his from the heavy annotations. She’d never met anyone who took reading as seriously as he did.

With a small smile she picked it up, deciding she could nap a little later. He was likely wondering where he’d left the book after all, she was pretty sure he had the afternoon free. On a mission, she heads out of the common room, while flipping to the first page marked by a skinny pink tab.

She’s so lost in reading the little comments he’d left on a larger note inside of the page- rather than actually reading any of the actual text- that she didn’t notice Megumi in the hall until she practically ran into him.

“Oh- sorry!” She yelped quietly upon seeing the tall figure in her peripheral. When she looks up to see it’s Megumi, her shock melts into a small smile. “Oh, Megumi! I was just coming to look for you,” She beams brighter, closing his book and extending it to him. “This is yours, right?”

Not knowing what to say, he gives her a shaky nod before taking the book from her hands. He settles for a small thank you.

“No problem,” She replies. “It was in my nap spot” She adds sheepishly.

Megumi chuckles, and he’s unable to keep himself from grinning. (y/n) tilts her head at his bright smile, intrigued by the pure joy seeping out of him. Her fingers latch together as a group of butterflies in her stomach begin to flutter in her stomach.

“Hey, I was wondering…” She starts, her brows pinching with uncertainty, but Megumi gives her his undivided attention.

“Yeah? What is it?” He asks, tucking the book under his arm.

He watches the way her fingers begin to fiddle. He’s distracted by the nervous habit of hers, and his heart swells in his chest. She was fidgeting.

“Uh, ah- it’s silly-” She starts to change her mind, but he shakes his head at her, too eager to hear what was on her mind to let her back out of it now.

“I’m sure it’s not,” He says boldly. She must catch the way he looks at her in complete seriousness, because her eyes widen in the smallest amount. “What is it?” He asks again.

Her cheeks feel warm, and Megumi watches in real time as a rosy tint flushes her face. He can’t believe it took him so long to realize just how deeply he cared about her, because seeing her fidget and blush before him now, he thinks it could be his favorite sight of all time.

“D’you remember when we were little, and Gojo always made us have those playdates?” She asks with a small laugh that dies quickly as she’s overcome with bashfulness.

“Yeah, how could I forget that?” He chuckles back at her, his lips lifting into a fond smile, even though in most of his memories of that time, he was an irritated, angry little thing. “What about it?”

(y/n) opens her mouth to explain, but quickly shuts it and shakes her head. A soft smile adorns her lips as her eyes fall to her hands, still fidgeting nervously.

“I dunno, I guess I…” She’s never struggled for words more than this moment, and she curses herself for acting like a shy little girl when she’s known Megumi for years, and she’s never quite felt like this. “Do you remember when we became friends?” She rushes the question out, afraid that she’d say forget it and walk away with regret rather than feel a little embarrassment now and actually get an answer.

Megumi nods.

“I do” He responds right away.

“Like, actual friends,” (y/n) clarifies, sure that he spoke too soon. “Not just kids dropped off at a playground for three hours and being expected to play together, I mean, like, real friends”

Megumi nods again.

“I do,” He repeats, this time with a small chuckle. “You don’t?”

(y/n) chews on her lip as she shakes her head. Her brow furrows in the slightest, curious as to how he has the better memory of the two of them. Amused, he smirks at her.

“Well?” She asks impatiently. “What changed?”

“I can’t believe you don’t remember,” He teases softly, making her roll her eyes. “You’re hurtin’ my feelings, (y/n/n)”

“I didn’t know you had feelings, ‘gumi,” She retorts playfully. “But c’mon, tell me” She pleads sweetly, her eyes glittering with anticipation.

His eyes flicker between hers for a moment, swept away with the way she looked at him. It dawns on him that if she asked him any favor this way, he’d comply without hesitation. Her complete attention was on him, and he swore there was something in her eyes he’d never seen before. Or perhaps he’d just never noticed it. It was soft, but there was a depth there that he was aching to explore further.

“It was right before we came here,” He finally indulged her, his voice quiet like he was revealing a well kept secret, rather than a memory they actually both shared, even if she’d forgotten it. “The weekend before, actually. When we were moving into the dorms, you remember that?”

(y/n) nods at the general memory. She thinks she recalls making fun of him for listening to Weezer while unpacking in the room right across from hers.

“Gojo let us stay one night early. Probably so he could have his place to himself,” The thought dawns on Megumi a little late, but he chuckles realizing it now. “But at the time it was cool… cause we’d never been on our own before”

“Right,” (y/n) smiles as she thinks about it now. That first night on her own in her own space had felt so special, so exciting. It was almost humorous how normal it felt now. How her space felt completely her own. “I almost forget how it was just you ‘n me for a bit here”

“But you don’t remember the first night?” He asks. A smile line creases between (y/n’s) brows as she racks her mind for the rest of the memory.

Making ramen noodles in the kitchen far too late in the night because she couldn’t sleep. Pacing around the corridors and snooping where she shouldn’t have.

“You woke me up,” Megumi chuckles.

Realization dawns on her in the form of an embarrassed smile.

“Oh,” She muses softly. “Right… I couldn’t sleep and… I was bored”

“You begged me to get up with you, it was torture,” Megumi reminded her. “And then you made me watch a movie with you, that dumb 80s movie you like that was way too long- and you didn’t even stay awake through it”

“Okay okay-” (y/n) tries to dismiss him with a wave of her hand, but Megumi continues.

“But you talked through most of it anyways,” He speaks over her before she could get him to shut up. “You said you were scared”

Her eyes widen, and the story he’s telling sounds vaguely familiar, but truthfully she’d been so exhausted that night she couldn’t really remember the specific details all that well. But she did remember waking him up in the middle of the night, so she’s surprised he’s able to recall this random moment from a year ago so easily. Maybe his memory was just better than hers.

“I… I did?” She mumbles.

Megumi nods back, with his focused eyes set on hers.

“You said you were scared of failing,” His voice grows quiet again. “You said you… you were scared of not getting stronger,”

Despite this event having happened so long ago, (y/n) feels embarrassed now, and she can’t believe that Megumi’s clung to this memory in particular. She almost wished she hadn’t asked, because she could’ve lived in peace never having known she’d revealed such a massive insecurity to him.

“And then you told me that you thought I was strong,” Megumi continues, a smile curling on his lips. “And you asked if I’d help you get strong like me, too,”

She’s sure she must be seeing things when she notices color flush his cheeks. Because there was no way Fushiguro Megumi was blushing in front of her right now.

“Then you passed out on me and I was stuck watching the rest of the dumb movie so you wouldn’t wake up”

“You watched the rest of the movie?” She asks softly. He chuckles at her, and nods his head. “I can’t believe I don’t remember any of that”

“You were pretty tired,” He shrugs back in understanding. “And it was a while ago, I wouldn’t have expected you to remember all of that”

“I see…” (y/n) mumbles to herself. She drags her lip between her teeth as she stays quiet for a few moments.

“And by the way,” He steps forward, catching her attention again as her eyes snap up to meet his, suddenly aware of the small space left between them. “I do kinda stare at you a lot”

Her face lights up with so much heat she thinks she’s going to combust.

“You- you heard that?” She squeaks out.

“And then some,” Megumi nods back. For some reason, he doesn’t feel weird about shamelessly admitting that he’d been listening in on her conversation. “Did you mean all of that?”

Her mouth opens and closes a few times as her previous conversation comes back to her in waves. The longer she thinks about it, the hotter the back of her neck grows. He’d listened to all of that? He heard her ramble on about him? And had he heard that last part-?

“I mean, y-yeah, yeah,” She stammers over her answer, accompanied with an awkward nod of her head. “Of course I did” She says surely, but her voice is a mere whisper.

“Even that last part?” He asks, shuffling forward again. Her eyes track the movement, bewildered by his sudden closeness, but she doesn’t dare put space between them.

“Last part?” She repeats, dumbly.

“Yeah,” Megumi nods, and he can’t help but reach out and trace his thumb under her jaw, ghosting over her skin with a touch so light she almost leans into it to feel it properly. “You know, the part where you said you hadn’t thought about it, about me,” He reminded her, even though she remembers fully well what he was referencing. “You meant that too?”

She swallows thickly. The intensity of his eyes on hers was too much to bear, she could almost crumple to a heap on the ground, but her body is rigid, firmly planted before him by the pad of his thumb under her chin.

“No,” The word comes out in a whisper so soft Megumi wouldn’t have caught it had he not watched it fall from her lips. “No, I didn’t mean that”

A smile twitched on his lips, and he could see her hands fidgeting again. Just as he thought, he beamed as he met her eyes again, she felt it, too.

“What did you mean to say, then?” He asks the question that’s been lingering on his mind like poison being held in the back of his throat.

Her eyes wander to his lips as she realizes he’s been moving in impossibly closer. She’s hoping, no, she’s sure he’s going to kiss her, but he wants his answer first. Rightfully so, she supposes he’s been waiting to hear it, and if she was honest she was dying to get it off her chest. But the prospect of so blatantly telling someone how you feel has her shifting her weight nervously.

“I meant…” She mumbles, snapping her eyes up to his when she thinks she’s stared at his lips for too long. “I meant I have thought about… something more…” Her voice raises and drops in volume as she makes her confession weakly. It’s certainly not a bold, romantic movie moment, like she always thought she’d have some day. It’s timid, quiet, and a bit awkward on her end. She clears her throat. “But they didn’t need to know that” She says, a small giggle escaping her.

“No, ‘spose not” Megumi’s lips curled into a smile that had her nerves settling, comfortable again in his presence. Although she’s sure she could never be truly uncomfortable with him.

“So… spying on your friends these days, hm?” (y/n) asks, tilting her head at him curiously. She means for her tone to be playful, but it comes out in a whispery soft. “That’s a bit out of character for you, Megumi”

Despite his warm face and stuttering heartbeat- he might need to go to Shoko, the irregular pace was becoming a concern- Megumi chuckles at her, and his smile doesn’t falter.

“When else was I gonna get to hear you say all that nice stuff about me?” He hums, effectively burning up her cheeks as well. His thumb traces gently over her chin, his eyes following the movement fondly before meeting hers again.

Megumi had never really been a touchy person. (y/n) could probably count on one hand the amount of times he’s ever touched her, and the first three instances that pop up in her mind revolve around him rescuing her ass when she was being reckless on an assignment.

“I liked the part where you said I was a gentleman,” He beamed a little brighter, and (y/n) had to grind her teeth into the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning like an idiot. “But for the record,” He moves closer, and her eyes grow so round as she stares at him that they almost burn from her lack of blinking. “I’m lucky to have you, too,”

Her jaw loosens and her teeth no longer have a grip on her cheek, allowing for a sweet smile to stretch across her lips as she takes in the fond words.

Just as she thought. He was the warmest person she knew.

“And,” He continued, his eyes moving between hers as he took in how pretty she looked when she was in a state of surprise, “You are my favorite”

She laughs again, breathless and quiet before she rolls her eyes with nothing but fondness.

“I know,” She murmurs, narrowing her eyes in mock annoyance. The smile on her lips was too sweet for him to think she was giving him anything other than her entire heart on a platter. “Must be a side effect of your staring problem”

He tilts his head down, simultaneously lifting her jaw with a tender pull of his thumb, but just as his nose brushes over hers, he seems to remember his manners, and he can’t have her go thinking he’d dropped the gentlemanly side of him she seemed to appreciate so much.

“Can I?” He murmurs, his lashes rising and falling as his eyes travel between her gaze and her lips. “Kiss you?” He clarifies.

And she almost laughs. She wants to giggle and grab him by the shirt and smash her lips against his in a feverish, passionate kiss. But her breath is caught in her throat, she can’t quite find her voice, and her fingers seem to have magnets clinging them together because she’s frozen before him.

So all she can do is shut her eyes and give the faintest nod of her head, barely pursing her lips before his are pressing against them.

Every muscle in her body relaxes as she’s flooded with warmth. Her posture loosens up and even her hands pry apart as she finally finds the strength to lift them, setting them gently on his shoulders.

His lips are surprisingly soft, even when she presses closer and kisses him deeper, they feel nothing but tender. She feels light headed from how sweetly he kisses her, his free hand, the one that isn’t holding his book, splays across her cheek. The tip of his index finger barely ghosts along her earlobe, before tracing down her jaw, and back up again.

She was damn near about to raise her foot like the girls in the movies do when they’re swooning over their true love’s kiss. That shit was no joke.

When they part, she’s smiling at him again, and he’s mirroring her expression. It takes her a minute to will herself to open her eyes, and her hesitation makes Megumi chuckle.

“Next time, I’ll let ‘em know you’re a good kisser, too” She mumbles, in a bit of a daze, as he could tell.

“Oh will you?” He teases quietly.

She nods, leaning her cheek into the comfort of his palm. Her cheeks flush before she crinkles her nose, second guessing her previous statement.

“Well, maybe not right away” She mumbles, and he chuckles at her.

The apples of his cheeks are bright, his smile is toothy, and his eyes sparkle with every lovely feeling humanly possibly, all held for her.

“Maybe not right away” He agrees in a soft voice, before tilting forward again, his thumb swiping gingerly across her cheekbone.

She swears she could melt into the way his low voice comes out in a whispered husk against her lips. Her eyes are already fluttering shut again. His lips brush over hers sweetly, gently, as though for the first time. She returns the tenderness, her fingers reaching up and ghosting along his sharp jaw, twitching with anticipation to touch more. The desire to grab him by the face and crash their lips together is still a thought in the back of her mind, but she sets it aside for now. She thinks he’ll make the time for her to do so later.

And suddenly Megumi believes her. He believes all the kind things she’d said when coming to defense. He believes he is warm, and he is caring. But he only believes it because she made him so. He thinks he’ll have to tell her, at some point, but it could wait for another time. They were bound to have time ahead of him where he could spend hours on end returning the favor, and sing her praises until his face is blue and hers is pink. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

#fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro fluff #fushiguro megumi fluff #megumi fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #megumi brainrot #fushiguro megumi friends to lovers #fushiguro megumi imagine #megumi imagine #megumi fushiguro imagine #fushiguro megumi x you #megumi x you

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sadnymi · 7 months ago

Text

「 ✦ Euphoria. ✦ 」

[Mattheo riddle x Inexperienced!reader]

Request: can you perhaps do an inexperienced reader x mattheo with like thigh riding and dry humping .

Words: 2.400

Warning: thighs riding, dry humping, f(orgasm), fluff ,smut .

Sat alone at the top of the Astronomy Tower, hidden away from prying eyes, consumed by the weight of my emotions. Tears streamed down my cheeks uncontrollably, my sobs echoing off the stone walls as I struggled to contain the storm raging within me.

Suddenly, I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder, I looked up to see Mattheo, his concerned eyes searching mine. He pushed the strands of hair away from my face, brushing away the tears with a tenderness that made my heart ache.

"What's wrong, my love?" he whispered, his voice soft and soothing. "Why are you crying like this Y/N?"

I hiccupped through my tears, unable to form words as the pain threatened to overwhelm me. But Mattheo pulled me into his arms, holding me close as he whispered sweet words of comfort and reassurance.

"Shh, it's okay," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to my wounded soul. "You can tell me anything, darling. I promise I'll fix it for you. I hate to see tears in those beautiful eyes."

His words melted away the walls around my heart, and I buried my face in his chest, letting myself be enveloped by his love and warmth. In that moment, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as I had Mattheo by my side, everything would be okay.

“He called me a prude," I choked out, my voice trembling with emotion. "He said I ruined our date because I wouldn't let him touch me. He said so many hurtful things...".

Mattheo's expression softened with understanding as he listened attentively, his arms wrapped protectively around me. "I'm so sorry, my love," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead.

"You did nothing wrong. You have every right to set boundaries and expect respect and he’s going to pay for each tear that falls from your eyes."

His words washed over me like a soothing balm, calming the storm of doubts and insecurities raging within me. "I just wanted to feel wanted," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "To go on a date like the other girls..."

"You are wanted, more than you could ever know," he insisted, his gaze burning with intensity. "Not by just anyone, but by someone who sees your worth, your beauty, your intelligence, and your kindness. Someone who loves you for exactly who you are."

His words struck a chord deep within me, touching a part of my soul that I had thought long buried beneath layers of self-doubt. "But I'm a prude," I protested weakly, the label still echoing in my mind.

Mattheo's expression softened, his eyes filled with an emotion that sent a shiver down my spine. "You're not,"

"Baby, it's not like that," he reassured me, his voice gentle but firm. "You're not a prude. Those boys don't even deserve one tear from those beautiful eyes."

I gazed at him, my heart swelling with a mixture of love and disbelief at his heartfelt words. His unwavering belief in me, his unwavering love, it was overwhelming. And as I looked into his eyes, filled with an intensity that took my breath away.

"But I'm inexperienced," I admitted quietly, my voice tinged with uncertainty.

His response was immediate, his tone filled with unwavering confidence. "You're just waiting for the right person," he assured me, his gaze steady.

I met his eyes, searching for the courage to express the feelings that swirled within me. I longed to tell him in that moment that he was the only boy who mattered to me, that my heart beat for him alone. But the fear of rejection held me back. He was Mattheo, and I was just me. How could I dare to dream of being more than his best friend?

"But what if the right person never sees me? What if they never develop feelings for me?" I questioned, my voice betraying my uncertainty.

His response was gentle yet firm, his touch tender as he held my face in his hands. "Then you need to look more closely," he replied, his eyes flickering briefly to my lips before meeting mine once more.

As his breath caressed my face, his proximity sending a wave of anticipation coursing through me, I closed my eyes, unable to resist the magnetic pull drawing us together. I felt the gentle brush of his finger against my lower lip, a tender gesture that sent a shiver of excitement down my spine.

"Why are you wasting your time with those stupid boys, baby?" his voice was a soft murmur, laden with sincerity and affection. I dared to open my eyes, finding myself lost in the intensity of his gaze. He was so close, his presence enveloping me in warmth and reassurance.

And then, without hesitation, he closed the distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that stole my breath away. His lips were soft, so achingly soft against mine, yet the kiss held a passion and longing that left me utterly breathless.

In that moment, everything else faded away, leaving only the two of us suspended in time. His lips moved against mine with a gentle urgency, as if he was pouring all his unspoken feelings into the kiss. It was my first kiss, but it felt like so much more – it felt like the culmination of every unspoken desire and every hidden longing we had ever shared.

I melted into his embrace, my hands finding their way to his shoulders as I surrendered myself completely to the intoxicating sweetness of his kiss. The world around us ceased to exist as we lost ourselves in each other, our hearts beating as one in a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

And as our lips finally parted, leaving us both breathless and flushed with desire

" you kissed me," I whispered, my voice barely a breath as I searched his eyes for answers.

He smiled, a softness in his gaze that made my heart flutter. "It took me so long to, but I did," he admitted, his voice filled with a mixture of relief and longing.

"Why did you kiss me?" I couldn't help but ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"Because I felt like I would have died if I didn't," he confessed, his words sending a thrill of excitement coursing through me.

I looked at him, my heart pounding in my chest as I dared to ask the question that had been lingering on my mind. "Do you... do you like me too?"

His response was immediate, his voice filled with a raw intensity that took my breath away. "Fuck, baby," he moaned, his words a desperate plea. "I'm in love with you. So deeply in love with you."

As he kissed me again, I melted into him, lost in the sensation of his lips against mine. But then I felt something beneath me, and I pulled back, concern etching my features.

"See, that's what you do to me," he murmured, his voice strained with desire.

I gasped, realizing the effect I was having on him. "It feels good," I admitted, my cheeks flushing with heat.

He smirked, his eyes darkening with lust. "What feels good, baby?" he teased, his hands roaming over my body.

"this... Mattheo, oh i this so good I want more ," I confessed, feeling a surge of arousal coursing through me.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, his grip tightening on my thighs as I moved against him again.

But then, I felt a pang of worry. "I'm so sorry, Mattheo. Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry, I didn't mean it," I babbled, my nerves getting the best of me.

He hushed me gently, his touch soothing my frayed nerves. "Shhh, my sweet girl, you did nothing wrong. It's just... if you continue to do that, it might....." he trailed off, his words leaving me hanging in suspense.

I swallowed hard, feeling a rush of embarrassment wash over me. "Did you ever experience the feeling of orgasm before? I mean, with yourself," he asked softly, his eyes filled with understanding.

I shook my head, feeling tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. "No," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper.

But instead of judgment, I found only warmth and reassurance in his gaze. He smiled gently and kissed me again, his lips tender against mine.

"So that makes you feel good?" he asked, his voice soft with concern. As I nodded, he continued, "I'm going to give you more, but let's take it step by step, okay?"

I nodded eagerly, desperate for more of the pleasure he could offer. And as he trailed kisses along my neck, sending shivers of pleasure down my spine, I knew that I was in good hands.

As his hands trailed up my thighs, pushing my dress higher until my wet panties were exposed, I felt a surge of anticipation coursing through me. His touch was electric, igniting a fire deep within me that I couldn't extinguish.

With a gentle yet firm hand, he guided me to straddle his thigh, positioning me so that I could feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against me. I gasped at the sensation, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through my body.

"You're so fucking sexy," he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire. "I love seeing you like this, all wet and ready for me."

I moaned in response, the sensation of his thigh against my throbbing core driving me wild with need. And as he began to move me against him, guiding my hips with his hands, I felt a wave of pleasure building deep within me.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice laced with approval. "That's it, ride my thigh just like that."

I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensation as he continued to move me against him. With each thrust of my hips, I felt the tension building, the pleasure mounting with every stroke.

His lips found mine in a searing kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth as he urged me to let go of my inhibitions. "Don't be afraid, baby," he murmured against my lips. "Just feel it."

But with each movement, I could feel my pussy throbbing against his hard thigh, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through me. And then, as if by instinct, I shifted my hips, seeking more contact, more friction.

Mattheo groaned in response, his grip tightening on my hips as I ground against him with reckless abandon. "Fuck, baby," he muttered, his voice thick with desire. "You feel so good against me."

And then, as the pleasure reached its peak, I felt something new, something I had never experienced before. It was a tightness in my stomach, a fluttering sensation that seemed to radiate throughout my entire body.

"What... what is this feeling?" I gasped, my voice filled with uncertainty as I struggled to make sense of the overwhelming sensations coursing through me.

He kissed and sucked my neck gently, his lips sending shivers of pleasure down my spine. "Don't be afraid, my sweet girl," he whispered. "That's pleasure, and you deserve every bit of it."

I moaned in response, the sensation of his lips against my skin driving me wild with desire. With every movement, I felt myself drawing closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity.

I moved my hips against his thigh, craving more of the friction that sent waves of pleasure coursing through me. His grip tightened on my hips, his touch electric as he guided me in my movements.

I felt a new hunger stirring deep within me. I wanted more, I needed more, and I knew that he was the only one who could give it to me.

"Please," I begged, my voice barely a whisper. "I want more."

He grinned, his eyes gleaming with lust as he moved me against him, his own arousal pressing against me now. "You want more, baby?" he growled, his hands gripping my hips possessively. "Then let me give it to you."

With a wicked grin, he shifted me slightly, guiding me so that I could feel the hard length of his arousal pressing against my soaked panties. As he moved me against him, the friction sent bolts of pleasure shooting through me, and I couldn't help but moan in response.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. "Feel how hard you make me. Feel what you do to me."

I whimpered as he continued to move me against him, the pleasure mounting with every stroke. His lips found mine in a searing kiss, his tongue dancing with mine as he urged me on.

"Ride me, baby," he growled, his voice filled with hunger. "Show me how much you want it."

With a desperate cry, I began to move against him, my hips rocking back and forth as I sought out the delicious friction he offered. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing over me, building with every stroke until I was teetering on the edge of ecstasy once more.

He watched me with hungry eyes, his hands gripping my hips as he guided me in my movements. "That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire. "You're doing so well."

Encouraged by his praise, I moved faster, my body craving more of the pleasure he was giving me. With each thrust, I felt myself drawing closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity.

And then, with a cry of pure ecstasy, I felt it happen. My body convulsed with uncontrollable spasms as waves of pleasure crashed over me, and I screamed his name as I tumbled over the edge into oblivion.

He held me close as I trembled with the force of my release, his arms wrapped around me protectively. And as I lay there, spent and sated in his arms, I knew that I had never experienced anything like this before.

He kissed my forehead softly, his lips tender against my skin as he whispered, "You're amazing, baby. Absolutely amazing."

I looked up at him, my body still tingling from the incredible pleasure he had just given me. "Matt, can you make me feel that feeling again? Can you teach me more " I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

His eyes darkened with desire as he gazed down at me, his fingers trailing lightly along my neck. "Fuck, baby," he muttered, his voice husky with need. "The things I want to do to you, the things I'm gonna do to you...".

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

#mattheo riddle imagines #mattheo riddle smut #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheoriddle #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle x reader #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you #fluff imagines #inexperienced #inexperiencedreader

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acoazlove · 14 days ago

Text

A New Place | part four

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Summary: The aftermath of the dinner brought on a conversation with someone you didn't expect.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: angst, and a little bit of fluff (kind of)

─────────────────────────

The past few days felt like you were watching in from the outside. Not leaving your apartment on your days off like you normally would. Usually, you liked to be down in the bar while your friends worked, just to spend time with them.

But after that night, you can’t talk to them. Won’t talk to them. Benny set the whole thing up and didn’t give you any warning, or even ask you in the first place.

Now, back at work, you stay silent, not a single word being uttered to your coworkers.

“Y/n,” Benny’s voice comes out softly, cautious almost. As if talking to a wounded animal that’s about to bolt. Acting as if you didn’t hear her, you continue to shine the glass in your hands. Silently wishing a customer would appear in front of you and order something, so you don’t have to deal with whatever Benny wants.

A huff leaves her when she realises you’re ignoring her. “I need to talk to you.” Voice still soft, placing a hand on your shoulder. You harshly shrug off her touch, placing the glass on the bar top and pushing past her into the kitchen.

Footsteps follow closely behind you. “What, Benny?” You snap.

”I’m sorry, I just wanted to help. I thought if you just talked to them-“

”Stop. Just, stop.” Running a hand through your hair. “If I wanted to talk to them, I would have.” Turning away, taking a deep breath. “It should be on my terms.” A deep breath is released behind you. Footsteps scuffing, shifting on her feet. “y/n-“ her blue form appeared in front of you suddenly. “I am truly sorry. You’re right, It should be on your terms.”

Your gaze moves to the back door, “I need some air.” Eyes meeting hers. Understanding took over her features, a nod of her head, taking a step to the side. “Talk to me when you are ready. I don’t expect you to forgive me, or anyone else.” Waving a hand towards the doorway leading back into the main area of the bar. “But just know we’re here if you need anything.”

With a curt nod, you pull the door open, stepping out of the bar. Fresh air fills your lungs, and a deep sigh leaves you. Eyes flutter closed as the afternoon sun kisses your skin. Brows pulling together, mind unwantedly drifting to the thought of how you and your sisters used to bask in the sun after a long winter transitioned to warmer seasons.

Eyes open with a start as the cool breeze brushes your ankle. Glancing down, you find a smoky tendril swirling around your feet. You frown down at it. Lifting your gaze to find the owner, knowing his shadows don’t typically stray too far from him. But you find no sign of him, no feeling of eyes on you. No glimpse of large wings in the moving fae on the streets. The tendril moves up to your wrists, a gentle tug causing you to stumble forward a step. Seemingly pulling you, guiding you.

Arm moving to shake it off, but fail miserably, the little thing intent on moving you in a certain direction. “Go away.” You mumble. “I’m sure he doesn't want anything to do with me.” Voice hesitant as it tightens around your wrist softly. Tugging you forward once again. With a sigh you decide to let it pull you away.

Footsteps carefully along the uneven stones of the streets of Valaris. It doesn't take you long to realise what direction it was pulling you to. The townhouse. You stop in your tracks, harshly pulling your wrist away from the shadow. “No.” You growl. The dark tendril moving to brush against your face, trying to comfort you.

A sharp breath leaving you. Running a hand down your face. Why is this happening to me? The question crosses your mind, rubbing your eyes almost aggressively, turning on your heel, and planning on making your way back to the tavern.

Only a few steps forward you run head-first into a hard wall. No. Not a wall, a person. Cheeks blazing, pulling your hands from your face. “I’m so sorry-“ meeting a familiar pair of hazel eyes. Gaze widening as you take a hasty step back. Eyes darting to the side, trying to find a way to escape the questioning gaze of the shadowsinger.

More shadows join the one swirling around you brushing your skin. A huff leaves the male in front of you. Meeting his gaze to find him frowning at them. “I’m sorry.” He mutters, his cheeks tinting a soft pink at failing to reign them in.

“It's fine.” You find the words leaving you without your permission. Your cheeks heat up in response. A silence settles over the two of you as you both avert your eyes. The quiet was surprisingly not uncomfortable but felt far too long.

It seems Azriel agrees with your thoughts, clearing his throat softly. You feel his assessing gaze on your face, reading you far too easily. “Are you okay?” He asks finally, almost gently, as if worried he’ll scare you off. As if finding something in the way you're standing. The way you refuse to look at his face.

You feel a cool brush of a shadow on your cheek. Hands quickly wiping your face. Feeling a slight wetness under your eyes. Rubbing your face as fast as you can, probably far too aggressively. When did you start crying? “I’m fine.”

Sidestepping him, trying to leave as swiftly as you can. “Do you want me to walk with you?” His soft voice was barely audible from how far you’d moved away from him. You glance over your shoulder, finding him looking at you tentatively. “Of course, it's your choice, but I thought you might like some company.” His wings twitch at his back. “Sorry if that offer is stupid. I shouldn’t have asked.” He hastily added on, taking a small step back, clearly expecting you to reject him.

It takes you a moment before you answer. “Sure.” Your answer is quiet and unsure. But after the past couple of days, you felt lonely. Azriel had been the only one to check in on you. Giving you a choice. Not expecting anything from you.

He gave you a curt nod before striding up to walk by your side. You turn, hands wringing as you amble along past some shops. A comfortable quiet settles between you as you slowly make your way in a different direction from the bar. Not wanting to be back there for a while. Not ready, despite it being halfway through your shift. Benny shouldn’t mind.

”I’m sorry for the other night. I shouldn't have said what I did.” A deep breath passed his lips. “You deserve to have time to decide what you want, especially after how we made you feel.” We? “No one should have made that choice for you. To show up out of nowhere, with no warning.”

a heavy breath leaves you. “y/n, you don’t deserve any of this.” You find you've made your way to the Sidra. Stopping by the bank. “Az-“ frowning from the weight of his statement. “Azriel, you’re the only one who didn’t forget.” Your eyes meet his hazel ones as you pull a necklace from the collar of your shirt. His eyes widen, almost imperceptibly, but his shadows fluttering around his wings gave him away.

“I could tell it was from you, despite not being told.” The steely blue stone in the pendant glimmered in the late afternoon sun. “The look on your face that night told me enough.” Gaze drifts to the glittering water of the sidra as your mind drifts back to your outburst. Internally wincing at the memory.

The feel of his stare burns through your skin. You tuck the necklace back under your shirt before meeting his gaze once again. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to them.” His voice filled with subtle regret. A quiet humourless laugh escapes you. “They should have remembered on their own.”

”Still, you deserved to have a nice birthday.” The sincerity in his tone tugged at your heart suddenly. “Thank you.”

His mouth opens then closes as if unsure if he should say his next words. “Nyx misses you. He keeps babbling about his aunty.” A quiet humour in his voice. A snort leaves you. “I miss him too.” Your lips pull down, eyes lowering to the ground.

You hate that you miss the rest of them. They don’t deserve your forgiveness. You know that, but they are still your family. Azriel somehow seems to know where your thoughts slipped to. “They don’t expect your forgiveness. They know they don’t deserve it, especially not anytime soon. They made the mistake of thinking you needed all that time. Not realising how that made you feel.” His body turns fully towards you. “They didn’t forget about you. They’re just upset with themselves. I promise I’m not trying to make excuses for them. Or myself.”

You meet his gaze, giving him a small nod as you process his words. The pink tint that blankets the scene around you makes you realise how long you've been talking. “I should get back to the bar.” A nod of his head as you turn back to the street.

He stays by you the entire walk back to the tavern. No words passed between you. The weight of your conversation running through your head.

He stops a couple of steps back from you as you stop outside the bar. Heading towards the stairs to your apartment instead. Your shift is already finished anyway. A few steps up, you turn, “Thank you Azriel.” He dips his head. “I needed that.” You decide to add on before turning away and making your way up the rest of the stairs.

─

Azriel watches you close your door behind you, then turns to leave, towards the river house.

The look on your face as you talked lingered in his mind the entire way back. The heartbreak, the tears in your eyes. A subtle sense of pain and sadness pulls in his chest. His shadows swarm his ears, whispering your words in his ears repeatedly. Your voice echoes with each word they utter.

Finally standing in front of the house, his family’s voices drifting through the open windows. Far quieter than they were three months ago. The heaviness of your absence straining each of them. Your sisters are still unsure how to handle it. Guilt weighing on every single one of them.

He hopes you’ll forgive them with time, but he’d understand if you didn’t. Your conversation makes him understand you need company, he’ll be there if you decide it's his company you want. Hope fills him, he’d be grateful if you did want that. He shakes his head, shoving that hope away. He doesn’t deserve it.

Shuffling up the pathway to the front door, softly pushing it open, stepping inside, finding himself feeling lighter than he has in months.

─────────────────────────

a/n: I actually hate this. It didn't come out how I wanted. I'll probably end up changing and fixing it later on. There may be some spelling mistakes, let me know if you find any. Its slowly but surely coming together. More confrontation to come, as well as more romance lol. I hope you like it regardless. <3

#azriel × reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x reader angst #azriel angst #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar x reader #acotar #a new place #a new place series

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