#lets face it I wouldn't write replies anyway
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rafesdollette · 1 month ago
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LATE NIGHT DRIVES
PAIRING: BSF!RAFE X SWEETHEART!FEM!READER
summary: Rafe cherished these drives with you. Where you both would blare your wildly different music, talk about anything that came to mind, and stop at random convenience stores for snacks. It was the only time where he felt genuinely relaxed and content.
a/n: okayy new setup? 🫣 I dunno, I'm trying it out but I likee. very professional, very cutesy. Anyway, this is my first well thought out writing so please do leave constructive criticism if you think I could do something different next time...
word count: 0.6k
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The route to your house was second nature by now. He's been there so much that he almost knows it better than his own home. which he doesn't mind at all, cause your house was basically his second home.
As you lie in your bed, your phone buzzes with an "I'm outside" text from Rafe. So per routine, you get up, throwing on the first hoodie in reach and heading out of the door.
He blows out out a breath, letting out a low "Its about fucking time" as you get in his truck.
"yeah yeah, it wasn't that long. you're just impatient"
he pulls out of your driveway, scoffing slightly "I must have plenty of patience, I deal with you, don't I? and put your seat belt on."
Once your seat belt is fastened, he begins driving on the road, having no destination in mind like usual. For a while, it's just silence between you two. Which isn't uncommon for both of you, it's familiar and more comforting than he'd like to admit.
"Lets stop at a gas station for snacks" you request, looking out the window
He nods, a murmured "sure" leaving his lips as he drives in the direction of the nearest gas station.
Entering the gas station, you immediately make your way toward the section with candy, picking out packages of a variety of candies while he heads towards the chips.
Once you both have gathered a good amount of snacks for each of you, which you both are gonna end up sharing anyway, you set them down on the counter as the cashier to rings up all of the items that he ends up paying for like usual since he'll throw a fit if he doesn't.
When you both make it into the car, he drives to the usual spot you both spend nights at. An empty parking lot. "Oh my gosh, turn it up!" you motion to the radio, smiling widely.
He groans as he turns up the radio "What the hell is this? Taylor Swift?"
"Sabrina Carpenter" you correct "And it's good, just listen."
"Yeah, I'd rather not" he replies as he takes a few gummy bears from the bag in your lap. He always claims to hate your music taste but you always find him humming a beat to one of the songs you pick out during a drive.
He leans back into his seat, chewing slowly as he listens to the lyrics. "You listen to some dirty music" he chuckles
"Hey, she's not that bad. You should see her on tour though, you'll have a stroke."
he raises his eyebrow, an amused expression on his face "really, huh? what, are you gonna go?"
you hum, shaking your head "No. I want to, though. But her tickets are kinda pricey. Maybe if I have extra money to spend soon."
"I'll take you."
The Skittles you were eating nearly get stuck in your throat as you look at him in bewilderment "What?! No! Rafe, that's too much money."
he shrugs "It's fine. I wanna do it. Just let me? Please?" of course he wouldn't bat an eye at spending that much money, he was loaded.
you hesitate for a moment, but seeing the insistence in his eyes, you eventually nod slightly "Fine. You can take me. But I'm paying you back eventually, alright?"
"Mm okay, sure. Deal." he agrees, even though he knows when it comes time for you to pay him back, he'll either give the money right back to you or refuse it.
"Thank you, Rafe. I appreciate it." you smile, genuinely touched by his willingness to spend that much money on you. It was rare that he went out of his way to please someone.
"Mhm, of course" he smiles back before throwing a gummy bear your way "consider it a late birthday gift."
"my birthday was like nine months ago, but okay."
"Mm yeah, just go with it" he chuckles, reaching over and talking your hand.
That was definitely new...
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judyvan · 4 months ago
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No Hands - Chris Sturniolo Fanfic
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。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆。。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆
Summary: After picking on Chris for being an extremely touchy person, the two of you make a bet. Will Chris be able to control himself long enough to win?
Warnings: MDNI/ smut/ chrisxfem!reader/ bf!chris/ unprotected p n v (use a fucking rubber)/ oral (fem receiving)/ touchy! chris x needy! reader/ competitive! chris/ use of "you"/couldn't tell ya how many words
A/N: Time for a Chris fanfic! I am still new to writing, so bear with me. The song loosely relates to the fic. Interactions are appreciated! Pls don't steal my shit. Thx!💋
。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆。。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆
"Keep your filthy fucking paws off of me," Nick says pushing his brother, Chris, away from him. Chris had wrapped his arm around Nick's shoulders as the two of them spoke.
Your boyfriend Chris is probably the most physically affectionate person that you know. He is always eager to touch those he cares about the most. Whenever it comes to you, Chris loses all self-control. He needs to be touching you in some way at all times; like he'll go insane without the feeling of your body against his in some way, shape, or form.
"You have got to be the touchiest motherfucker that I know, seriously," Nick continues, dusting the remanence of Chris' hands off of his shoulders.
"Shut up," Chris chuckles, pushing Nick backwards.
Nick looks up shocked. His eyes move back and forth from yours and Matt's, Nick and Chris' other brother. You and Matt begin to laugh uncontrollably.
"Please tell me you two fucking see this. I mean this is absurd! Even when I ask him not to touch me, he touches me. It's crazy!" Nick states completely dumbfounded.
Chris is laughing along with you and Matt. He begins to walk towards Matt, reaching out to grab his arm as he loses control of his body.
"Don't bring that shit over here," Matt says out of breath, wiping the tears from his eyes, failing to reel himself in.
Chris looks at you through squinted eyes. You simply open your arms as he walks towards you. He knew that you wouldn't turn down his touch. Chris stands in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head in the crook of your neck, laughing profusely into your skin.
"Can we please talk about this?!" Nick begins, still completely shocked. "I have never seen anything like this. Like he actually needs to be studied. He has always been "touchy feely", but ever since he got a girlfriend, it has multiplied by a gabillion." The room is still filled with the laughter of Chris and Matt, yours no longer producing noise.
"I mean seriously, I feel so bad for you. I can guarantee that you never get a fucking second to just breathe!" Nick exclaims.
You somehow manage to catch your breath and gain composure.
"It doesn't bother me. I've gotten used to it," you reply, rubbing your hand up and down Chris' back, attempting to calm him down.
Nick releases a scoff, letting you know that he doesn't believe you.
"Anyways, back to what I was saying," Nick begins shaking his head. He's looking at you, the only one stable enough to understand him. "Me and Matt are going to the store; do you want us to get you guys anything; besides some fucking giggle juice?"
"No, I think that's all we need," you reply, letting out a small laugh. Your whole body is now shaking at the intensity of Chris' reaction to Nick's last statement.
"Alright, we will be back in a few hours," Nick says, practically dragging Matt out of the door, him and Chris continuing to crack up.
The door shuts and Chris is eventually able to control himself. He pulls his head out of your neck and looks in your eyes, a huge grin spread across his face.
"Let's go to my room and find something to do until they get back," Chris says, his fingers running up and down your sides. You meet his lips with a short peck.
"I've got something in mind," you say smirking at him.
The two of you walk to Chris' room, holding hands of course. You have been trying to convince Chris to watch all of your favorite movies and now is the perfect time to start. Chris turns on the movie, "Five Feet Apart," and the two of you lay in his bed. As the film goes on, you can't help but think about what Nick was saying earlier. You are now very observant of how often Chris asks for a kiss or squeezes you tighter. When he gets up out of bed to grab a drink, you begin to laugh out loud at your own thoughts. Chris comes back into the room as you're laughing uncontrollably, trying to think of any moment he has spent any amount of time without physical contact.
"What the fuck is so funny?" Chris asks, taking a sip of his Pepsi as he stands in his doorway.
You swing your legs over the side of the bed to face your boyfriend.
"I was just thinking about what Nick was saying. I genuinely cannot think of a time that you went 5 minutes without touching me," you say.
Chris smirks and shakes his head. He begins to walk closer to you.
"Do you really think that I touch you a lot?" he asks, taking another drink.
"What do you mean think? You can't keep your hands off of me," you let out a small laugh.
"Yes, I can," Chris states in a cocky manner. "You touch me just as much as I touch you." He sits his drink down and gives you a smug look, stepping closer to you.
"Fine then. Let's make a deal. Until Nick and Matt get back, we have to keep our hands to ourselves. You can't touch me, and I won't touch you," you flick your brow up as you propose the idea to Chris.
"And why would I do that?" he says, laughing at your playfulness.
“To prove a point.”
Chris looks around the room for a second, thinking about what you said.
“How about we make this a little bit harder, since Nick and Matt aren't here,” he says, an arrogant look on his face. Chris bends down to whisper in your ear. “How about I do some things that make it harder for both of us to keep our hands off of each other.”
He then places an open-mouthed kiss to the spot right behind your ear. He tugs lightly on the bottom of your earlobe before pulling away. The combination of his warm breath, wet kiss, and teeth pulling on your skin, sends a feeling of arousal throughout your body. Chris looks at you with a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly able to see what he's doing to you.
"And why would I that?" you say, mocking him. Chris' eyes trail up and down your body, not missing a single curve.
"If I win, I get to touch you anywhere I want, wherever I want, anytime I want for a week, and you don't get to say shit to me about it." Chris runs his tongue across his bottom lip as he finishes his sentence. Just the thought of having any part of you at his fingertips whenever he pleased made him grow hard.
"And if I win," you start, noticing the tent forming at the crotch of his pants, " I get to wear as little as I want, whenever I want, and you can look all you want, but you can't touch, for a week." You smile up at Chris, seeing him picture you in the smallest article of clothing in his head.
"I think you've got yourself a deal," Chris says, moving even closer to you.
You lift off of the bed slightly, sliding your hands underneath of your ass, pressing them into the bed. Chris places his hands on the bed, one on either side of your hips. Your lips connect almost immediately, the two of you aching to touch now that you can't. The kiss is deep and passionate, the both of you long for more. You remove your hands from underneath you, pulling off the shirt and pants you're wearing. Chris' lips leave yours and meet your collarbone without hesitation. His hungry kisses across your skin deepen your desire for him to touch you. Chris has seen you in a bra and underwear plenty of times. Removing your clothes doesn't seem to faze him much.
"This is too easy," you say, a smile spreading across your face. Your hands reach behind your back and unbuckle your bra. You drop it on the floor, scoot away from Chris, and lay down on the bed.
Chris stands up completely. His eyes roam over your entire body, lingering on your breasts. Lacking a good poker face, Chris' expression confirmed that you just made things 10 times harder for him, in multiple different ways. He tugs at his bottom lip as he soaks in the amount of skin you have exposed.
"That's not fair," he laughs, his eyes touching every part of your figure that his hands should be feeling.
Chris removes all of his clothes, only leaving his boxers. Your eyes trail over his body. Your eyes widen when you see the bulge in his underwear. A small chuckle escapes Chris' lips at your face. His eyes never leave yours as he removes his underwear seductively, his entire body now on display.
"Now we're even," he says. Chris moves across the room and climbs on top of you, careful to keep both of his hands on the bed.
The air chills your uncovered body. Chris' lips only momentarily heating the areas that they touch. It isn't enough. You need his hands on you. Messy kisses are placed all around your frame as he travels down you. After reaching the waist band of your underwear, Chris moves directly to your inner thighs, devouring them. Your hips begin to buck upwards, wanting his mouth on the place covered by soaked fabric.
"Take them off," Chris says placing a single gentle peck to the front of your underwear.
You shake your head while biting your lip. You earnestly wanted his hands on you and refused to help him out any longer.
"You do it," you said, your heart racing.
"I'm not losing this bet," he responds placing a gentle kiss to either side of your pelvic bone. Suddenly, his tongue slides under the left side wing of your underwear. He pinches the material between his teeth and slides one side of your underwear down to your thigh. He slowly moves to the right side of your body and performs the same motion. His intention is to draw this process out as long as he can, hoping you'll cave. Tongue, bite, pull, switch. Tongue, bite, pull, switch. As soon as one side reaches your ankle, you begin to shake them off yourself, flinging them into the floor.
"Someone's impatient," Chris smiles. He knows you won't last much longer.
His head dives between your legs, his tongue licking up the need that is dripping from you. You let out a whimper, gripping onto the bed sheets, miserably trying to keep your hands busy. Chris' tongue splits you in half as his nose applies pressure to your clit. He begins to speed up his motion, his tongue now forming small circles around your most sensitive area. Your legs begin to squeeze inward, Chris' head between them acting as a magnet. You can't help but squirm, the intense feeling of pleasure taking over your body. All of your movement is making it difficult for Chris. He is unable hold your legs down, forcing them to stay put.
"If you don't stop moving, I'm going to have to stop," he says, momentarily pulling his lips off of you.
Your moans get louder as Chris proceeds to eat you out. Your legs begin to shake as you attempt to keep from moving, not wanting him to quit. His tongue slips inside of your opening. Your back arches off of the bed. He begins to eat you as sloppily as he can, wanting more than just his tongue to be inside of you. Your toes start to curl. He begins to shake his head back and forth, his tongue flicking in all directions, only stopping to suck on your ball of nerves. You cling onto the sheets for dear life. You're starting to get close. Don't do it. Your hands lose their hold on the bedsheets and find themselves in Chris' hair as you practically levitate off of the bed.
"Oh fuck!" you scream, on the edge of release.
Chris pulls away from you. You did touch him after all. Suddenly his eyes meet yours from in between your legs. His thumb brushes over his lips, gathering all of your remnants before sucking them off of his skin.
"I win," he says with a cocky smirk.
In a swift motion, Chris grabs your leg and throws it over his shoulder, plunging himself inside of you, burying his dick as deep in your walls as possible. As he thrusts in and out of you frantically, his hands touch every part of your body, making up for lost time. The two of you moan loudly at the feeling of him touching you inside and out. It doesn't take long before your stomach clenches and you reach your orgasm, Chris' warm cum coating your insides at the same time. As the two of you ride out your high, your hands continue to feel every part of each other. Chris slumps on top of you, wrapping his arms around you, and burying his face in your chest. Your arms embrace him, pulling him closer. After a few moments of relishing the feeling of you both on top of one another, Chris leaves your body to grab a towel and pull on his clothes. As he cleans you up, he makes sure to touch you in every way he can. He throws the towel on the floor and grabs your clothes, insisting on dressing you as well. He starts with your underwear and pants, wanting to see you topless as long as possible. Before putting your bra back on, he takes your breasts in both of his hands and squeezes, kissing you tenderly.
"You better get used to that," he says, pulling away from your mouth and sliding your bra on. "I've got a whole 7 days to do that whenever I want."
For the next week, Chris took as much advantage of his prize as possible. When meeting up with his family he would hug you as long and hard as he could. When around his brothers at home, he would palm your ass with both hands, squeezing roughly and kissing you with passion. Even when hanging out in public settings with your friend group, you would find at least one of his hands wandering from your thigh and meeting the sweet spot in between your legs.
。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆。。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆
To see how Chris takes advantage of him reward in more detail, click here to read: 7 Days (��No Hands” Extension)
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randomshyperson · 9 months ago
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The Bed Issue - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots
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Summary: Another retake of Wandavision, this time, the scene with the two single beds.
Warnings: (+18) pure smut, enchanted strap, fingering, creampie, wanda is in charge but r tops, dirty talking, some typical Westview angst (brief reality alteration) but purely sinful | Words: 3.284k
A/N-> At this point, I feel I should start a new collection with all the scenes I rewrote. I miss writing series people, where are my ideas. Also, sorry if there are too many spelling errors, I wrote this on my phone (it's hard to be poor and busy). But good reading!
General Masterlist | AO3
-&-
The sign of two single beds in the room made you giggle right away.
Wanda, who walked in first, looked back at you with curiosity. Her gaze scanned your face as she asked: “What's funny, darling?”
Your eyes found her and a deep sigh escaped your lips, the ghost of that giggle still present in your expression. 
“The beds, Wanda.” You replied quickly, almost offended she couldn't see the absurdity of that. Maybe she was playing innocent. Or at least, that's what her confused gaze looked like. Another sign escaped you. “Why would a married couple sleep on different beds, side by side?”
“Well, I…” but she cut herself mid-sentence, her gaze shifted as if she realized that really didn't make any sense. “I guess you're right.”
The bed moved as quickly as her fingers - the wood jumping to the side to connect and transform into one bed. You smile, moving forward to kiss your wife's cheek.
“Lovely tricks as always, darling.” You praise, catching the soft color rising up her skin before you step to the bathroom. But you comment again, giggling: “How odd that was, two beds.”
Distracted by your own joke, you didn't catch Wanda's shoulder tension. And she could only force a smile, giving a quick gaze at your figure brushing your teeth while mentality praying that for the sake of her poor heart, you wouldn't notice any other weirdness tonight.
-&-
A stupid tree.
A stupid tree branch against the window and things got out of hand completely. At least this time, in a good sense of things.
That is because Wanda found herself pressed into the bed, giggling at our bold hands under her clothes.
She remembers this teasing all too well. Beyond the sexual tension, and the teenage hormones, there was intimacy. You could always make her laugh, no matter the situation. Often, you would do that in inappropriate ones that's for sure. Just for the satisfaction of making her blush deeply when apologizing to whoever was around to testify you making a mess out of her. And then when in a situation like tonight, where it was too hard to breathe and too warm for a coherent thought - teasing fingers where she had tickles was the perfect way to ease her anxiety. To anchor her back and remember it's just you. Her best friend. Warming your way around her skin.
But things were a little - a lot - different in Westview. Neither of you knows why or how, or better saying, Wanda knew to a different extent than you.
When she brought the covers up your bodies, taking the lead for the night and expecting to meet your eagerness to kiss her again, she was met with more giggles.
She stared down at your shiny eyes, leaning into the hand you brought to her cheek.
“It's too warm here.” You let her know softy, and yes, Wanda was quite aware. Kissing you was more than enough to heat her entirely, but doing this under the covers was a challenge. She could feel the sweat starting to drip. She was ready to say she didn't mind, maybe even kiss you to change the subject when you added: “Why would you cover us anyway, darling? There's no one watching.”
It was meant to be a joke, obviously. You don't know. You couldn't know. And your eyes were innocent and your smile was sincere and Wanda hesitated.
Your hand remains on her cheek, the caress never stopping.
“Did I say something wrong? Where did you go just now?” 
She went outside. Outside the hex, all the way to monitors transmitting her sitcom of a fake life. But not really. Because she didn't consciously know about any of this. Yet, some part of her mind did know, and all the TVs that once exhibited her little show, now hold a Stand By sign. 
Wanda was the one who threw the covers aside. The fresh air was well welcome but you're now distracted with the gorgeous woman moving to straddle your hips.
“You're right, there's no one watching.” She says with the same urgency she burst open your pajama shirt. You don't understand the rush, but she looks too pretty for you to disagree. And Wanda purrs at the sight of your naked skin, biting her lips like a naughty child. “I missed you.”
You chuckle breathlessly, some confusion in your eyes. “I was with you all day.”
She shook her head, deciding now to control her tongue. If she doesn't want you questioning, she needs to stop saying things like this. So she forces a smile, shifting against your hips in a way that makes your breath catch in your throat. “I always miss my wife, I mean. Whenever she's not touching me.”
Even though you offer her a grin, there's a blush in your cheeks that goes down your chest and Wanda suddenly doesn't feel like talking anymore.
A feeling you two seem to share as you bring a hand to her face only to pull her down at you again. It's a heated kiss. With tongue and breathy whispers that turn her into needy sounds. 
Even without the covers, it's soon too hot to keep clothes on. 
You're the one who takes her nightgown off. Pulling down as your tongues dance together, until the item no longer hides the tits you started to play it. 
Wanda's eyes are tightly closed as your mouth sucks her nipple. Your hand plays with the other while she struggles to breathe. 
Her top needs to go, but so does all the other clothing. The nightgown barely reached the floor and you're already pulling at her soaked panties, eager to feel her inside.
“Need this off you now, witchy.” The nickname makes her gasp. You haven't used it until now and it has been way too long since she heard. Since you- 
No. No thinking about this, not now.
She forces herself back to the present, an easy task when she feels every inch of her skin burning with your touch. She needs to move away to take the item off but your hands hold her tight by the waist at the mere attempt of breaking apart.
She giggles breathlessly, aware of the new wave of wetness that dripped down with the feeling of your strong hands manhandling her back at her position, keeping her restless hips still. “But you said you wanted it off.” She tries to ration, receiving only a growl in return. The next second, when your hands shift, the item is torn off her without ceremony. 
“Hey! It was my favorite.” She pouts in protest but you merely give her a husky chuckle.
“I'm sure you can fix it.” Comes as a teasing answer that Wanda couldn't contradict even if she wanted to - all previous thoughts are gone when your fingers reach her front and penetrate between her warm folds without a warning. You groan at the delirious feeling of her pussy against your fingertips while Wanda whimpers at the ceiling, trying to get used to the sudden invasion.
“Fuck, you're so tight.” Your remark with a sultry voice against her ear. Wanda's arm circles your shoulder for some support while she feels the stretch of your fingers inside her. It's been a while since last time but dear God how she missed this. Her hips move on instinct and you have to chuckle at her impatience with herself. Your free hand moves to her lower back, caressing her skin while your fingers start to press your way inside her.
“Easy darling, I got you.” You guide, too deeply for her to give you any replies other than pleas and whimpers.  The position might not be the most comfortable for you but it's amazing to her. Wanda can grind down and ride your fingers as she pleases and you can feel how close she's coming to her climax so you don't dare to stop. Your thumb moves to her clit, circling the nerve and she nearly loses it. The bedroom lights start to flash with the build of this orgasm and you stare at her in amazement only to be rewarded with her gorgeous flushed face while she grinds into your hand in nearly despair.
“Fuck you're so beautiful.” You gasp, increasing the speed. The depth. Wanda breaks in a sob, her back arching. The first one is a charm. Your name is being screamed at the ceiling while you feel her wetness dripping down your hand. Unfortunately - or fortunately - it only makes you crave her more. She's still recovering from the intensity of this climax, all sweaty and flushed when you shift your hand. You're still inside her tight walls and your fingers start to pick up a pace again. She squeaks at the overstimulation, but her protest dies in your tongue sucking hers when you kiss her again.
Wanda's almost too distracted by the filthy of this kiss to notice how quickly her second climax is building - almost. There's a bite against your bottom lip that makes you groan when she breaks the kiss, unable to keep it up. Her hands grab at you for some grounding when she feels how close she is to come, stronger than the last time. You feel her nails piercing your skin when her orgasm washes over her and it's your time to moan at her ear.
Her body goes limp for a moment after this. It was two intense orgasms in a row after all. She just needs to take a breath. 
You move your fingers out, sucking them clean and murmuring satisfied at her taste while Wanda struggles to recognize her surroundings.
When you can hold her with both hands again, you nuzzle at her cheek.
“Enjoying yourself, witchy?” You dare to tease her when she can feel how she's still leaking in your lap. Honestly, the nerve. Wanda let out a deep breath, pushing her momentarily tiredness away. 
There's an easy smile on her lips when she finds your eyes again. “I am but I've been so selfish.” She starts with a particular accentuation of her ascent that she knows you drive you insane. She also watches as your breath catches and your eyes drift to her lips, mesmerized by every word. “You must be needing me as well.”
But you tense at her nails screeching your belly, a worried frown coming at your expression.
“Wanda… my powers.” The fear in your eyes is like a cold buck of water. Oh, yes, she forgot.
For the whole day, she forgot you had no idea of the life you two shared. Nothing outside Westview and this lovely fantasy. None of the creative ways you two once used to bypass the super strength issue. Your fear and hesitation at hurting her made perfect sense but the fact that she was the only one who could remember the whole history you two shared was still painful. Her expression probably gave her away and confused you even more. “I promise you this is more than enough for me. Bringing you pleasure is enough.” You add gently, but Wanda shakes her head, leaning in to kiss you. She leaves you breathlessly before breaking apart, taking some pride in the way you're blushing.
“Don't be silly, darling, there's plenty of things for us to do together. To please one another.” You gulp at her words and tone of voice, eyes following all of her movements. From the shift of her hips to the teasing of her fingers on the way down your pants. “I wanna try something I think you'll love it. Do you trust me?”
You nod immediately, watching as Wanda's fingers play with the hem of your pants. She giggles naughty at your anticipation and brings one finger up to your chin, to make you look at her eyes again. 
“Can you use your words?”
“Y-yeah.” You swallow, trying to win some composure back. It's not easy when Wanda Maximoff is naked and sitting on your tight. But you smile anyway. “Of course I trust you, witchy.”
She smiles at you, her eyes flashing a glimmer of naughtiness that makes your heart leap. You can't worry too much about that anyway - Wanda leans in to kiss you again. And it's the dirtiest one of the night. She takes the lead, pulling back now and then just to tease your tongue with the tip of hers, reveling at the way you pant and struggle to keep your hips still. 
But suddenly, you feel the new pressure inside your pants. The odd sensation shifts your attention entirely but Wanda brings her hands to your neck and kisses you hard. You moan into her tongue, hands holding her tight by the waist until her spell is complete. She presses down into you and the kiss is broken with your needy awareness.
“F-fuck, is that…?” You open surprised and aroused eyes at her, looking down where your middles connect only to watch Wanda's equal affected state. Her trembling hands reach down at your pants, trying to pull the garment off.
“Yeah, and I really need you inside now, alright baby? Think you're ready for me?” Her words are rushed as her fingers. Your pants and underwear are stuck in an awkward position on your thighs because Wanda is too impatient to wait another second. She grabs the hardness - barely giving you time to get used to the image or more important the feeling - of that scarlet strap magically placed there - before she sinks down.
It's a form of revenge, maybe. For the way you didn't give her time to prepare before, but what a sweet revenge that was.
The nearly animalistic grunt that escaped you when Wanda's cunt squeezed around you was a sound you didn't know you could make. She, on the other hand, rewards your ears with a pleasant deep moan while she adjusts to the fullness. There's also a new stretch. The toy is obviously larger than your fingers and goes deliciously deeper so Wanda needs to take a deep breath while she welcomes you in.
To her delight, not that you can remember this, but just like the first time you two tried, it's too much of a new overwhelming pleasure for you to handle. You came almost the same second you're bottom up. Tensing and shaking at the new feeling. You gasp, hands falling at the sides to grab the sheets that are torn apart while you hide your face into her neck and your climax washes over you.
Wanda giggles in amusement. The hot shot inside her feels as good as she remembers and you haven't changed. But the toy softening causes you to panic.
“S-sorry, god, I'm so sorry. I don't-”
“Shh, it's okay.” She cuts your anxious babbling immediately, firming her legs around you and bringing her hands to hold your cheeks. “I know it feels like a real one, but it's not a real one.” She says and without any warning, grinds down at you, stealing all the air of your lungs. Wanda bites her lip before adding “See? You're hard again already.”
You can't give her words. The only thing that leaves your mouth is a whine that makes her clench around you. 
Suddenly, she's moving. Rough grinding before she's undeniably riding your strap and it's dirty and maddeningly sexy so your hands hold her hips and help her when her body starts to betray her wishes to keep going. 
“Oh, Wanda, you feel so nice.” You moan with your eyes closed, outside the shared grunts and your words, the only sounds of the room are the bed creaking and the soaked toy coming in and out of her. Your lovely wife decides to give you a reason to be louder. Her hands push you back at the bed and now you can see her in all of her glory. Her pretty tits bounce with the hard pace she takes on top of you. “W-wait. Easy, I can't hold it if you-” 
Her hands move yours - trying to slow her by the waist - away, locking your fingers together at each side of your head. Her hair makes a curtain for your faces but Wanda kisses you again. Your tongues are still moving together when you come first. 
Because you're strong - stronger than her that is - scarlet magic holds you still, wrists and ankles when Wanda can't. She holds her climax just a little longer, enough to put on a show for your breathless figure under her when you are able to look up at it. 
It's divine when it occurs - The silent scream, her frown before the blissed worn-out expression. The flags of the light, the room vibrating and her eyes bright red before the dark green meets your gaze again.
She smiles down at you, still shaking but somehow ready for another.
“Enjoying yourself aren't you, Avenger?” she repeats your words from before, but the nickname so often used for teasing makes you frown in confusion.
“What is…? But she changed that before you could finish the question. 
As quickly as it happened, the scene shifted as if the words never left her lips. You were staring at her, with uneven breathing and adoring eyes.
“Is this really necessary?” For a second, her heart leaped in fear. The possibility that you could tell she altered things. But your gaze shifted to the magic holding you still, and you offered her a pleading stare. “Won’t you let me touch you?”
Wanda sighs, adjusting your hips and seeing the way your jaw tenses at the slight movement. You're still inside her, always magically stimulated to be hard no matter how many times you come. It made sense that you might be sensitive.
She bit her bottom lip, hands resting on your chest.
“But you look so pretty like this…” She starts, leaning in as if going for a kiss. You sigh as her lips meet your cheeks instead, closing your eyes when you feel her smiling before moving down. “I like having you at my mercy.”
You hum, somewhat distracted by her soft grind against you. If you're hard again, that's not only the magic to blame but Wanda's warm pussy squeezing you still.
“But I'm like this all the time.” you joke earning a husky giggle before she puts some distance between your faces again.
You let out a deep sigh when she pulls out the next second, catching her own soft groan at the emptiness. But your words fail you when you look down and see the mixed cum leaking from her and dripping down your abs.
Cursing under your breath a single “fuck.” at the image, you are not surprised at Wanda's naughty giggle.
“You made such a mess, babe.” She teases, the toy still vibrating and it occurs to you that it doesn't just answer to your arousal, but hers as well. 
“Me? You're the one who, you know… ride it. I didn't even know I would come through it.” You tried to defend yourself with rosy cheeks but Wanda is clearly teasing you. She giggles again, adjusting herself and causing you to shut up immediately. 
“I think you should stop babbling and start cleaning your mess.”
You swallow hard when you realize she's still moving. Up towards your face. The bed makes a strong crack sound when you use all your strength to pull your hands free from her magic chains.
Wanda allows you to break free. Mainly because she loves to feel your hands holding her thighs open when you eat her out.
Some old habits never die.
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kanasbinwriting · 2 months ago
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Hello! Could you possibly write a Sol x gn reader where the reader calls Sol and tells him to come inside and cuddle with them because they've been tired mentally and emotionally and just want to be held? And that they actually know that he's been sneaking in their apartment but they don't really care and actually they find it a little cute
Also I'm sorry if this sounds awkward, I don't know how to words things properly 😅
SOL X READER
Thank you so much for your request ^^ I really enjoyed writing this!! I hope I did an okay job
Fun fact, I'm actually working on making a Sol figure out of clay 💪
Anyway, enjoy!!
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It was dark outside; nothing could be heard but the wind rustling through the leaves and the occasional hum of cars driving by. You felt tired, but no matter how hard you tried to fall asleep, nothing worked—the stress consuming you whole.
You sat up on your bed, trying some breathing exercises you saw online to calm your racing mind, but to no success. Your mind was occupied with all sorts of things that caused you a great immense of stress and you couldn't help but feel emotionally drained as a result. Oh, to have someone hold you close right now. You let out a small whine as you rubbed your eyes. You glanced over at your phone charging on the bedside table, thinking to yourself. Sol, wouldn't mind if you called him, right? You picked up your phone and checked the time. Sol should be on his way right now. But waiting for him would be a bit awkward, you doubted that he'd even go near your window if he saw that you were still awake. You looked to your bedside table once more, where a glass of orange juice stood untouched, waiting for you to take a sip. You could just drink it and let the sleeping pills do their work, or at least that's what you think that he'd put in your drink to ensure you'd be sound asleep around the time he arrived for his nightly visits.
With a deep sigh, you decided to not drug yourself tonight. Maybe you could just give him a call. It wouldn't come off as weird, right? In all defence, he was the one breaking into your apartment every night. If anyone was weird then it was definitely him and not you for calling him at this ungodly hour. You tapped on his contact and raised your phone to your ear, calling him. No answer. Was he asleep? No way. He wouldn't be. You looked at your phone in disbelief and tried it again after a few seconds. You stood up from your bed and made your way toward the window when he finally picked up.
"H-Hello..?" He greeted you in a hushed tone.
You let out a chuckle.
"Are you serious?" You asked playfully.
"Huh?" Sol replied in complete confusion. "What do you mean...?" his tone shifted nervously, but before he could question further, you cut him off with a smug grin.
"Look up." Now looking down at him from your open window.
He froze and went completely silent, not daring to move a single muscle.
"W-what—"
You hung up and leaned further out the window.
"Why, hello there!" You called, winking unbeknownst to him.
He slowly raised his head to look at you and the look on his face was priceless. You gave him a knowing smile, waiting for him to say something. "I can explain...!" He stammered, raising his hands in defence.
"Can you now?" You settled your chin in your hand, your elbow propped up on your windowsill.
"I-I was... just going for a walk" You looked at him with a bored expression on your face
"Oh, really?"
"Yes." He nodded trying to look confident. He might've convinced you if it weren't for his all-black outfit and mask. With a sigh, you decided to end the senseless interrogation.
"Just come inside."
"What...?!" He exclaimed loudly in bewilderment.
"You... want me to come inside?"
"That's what I said, yes."
You walked away from your window and sat on your bed. It took Sol a few seconds to process what had just happened. He pinched his cheek to confirm he wasn't dreaming. Upon realising that it was, in fact, real, he quickly but carefully climbed to your apartment. As he slipped in through your window, making sure to close the window, he now stood before you, his face flushed crimson red. You let out a yawn and made yourself comfortable on your bed to which his breath slightly stutters."Can we cuddle?"
"What...?" he stammered, looking taken aback. "I said, can we cuddle?" You repeated, motioning for him to join you. He hesitated for a moment before muttering a quiet "Fuck it..." before walking toward you. He awkwardly tried to make himself comfortable next to you, keeping his arms close to himself, too nervous to touch you. His whole body tensed when you, without warning, wrapped your arms around him snuggling your head against his neck. Inhaling his scent, you let out a contented sigh. He lets you wrap your limbs around him, sensing that there's something wrong. He began to ease up in your embrace, wrapping his arms around you and began to gently stroke your head.
"Thank you..." You whispered quietly against his neck and he felt a shudder run down his spine. "No problem..." He whispered back, as a lovesick expression appeared on his face. Not paying him any mind you closed your eyes and slowly began to drift off to sleep in his his embrace.
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luvkyu · 3 months ago
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makeup ( hong seunghan )
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seunghan needs help doing his makeup
content : 1k words, male reader, fluff, boyfriend!seunghan, gamer!reader, light kissing, reader calls sh baby
note : i needed a break from working on the mingyu fic so here's some fluff :) i also wrote this in second pov - i usually write in third but i think i might start using second more!
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"help."
seunghan dropped a bag of makeup in front of you, a few items spilling out onto your desk.
"with?" you asked. he frowned when you didn't look up from the game on your computer. you seemed tense and focused in your dimly lit bedroom, wearing your expensive looking headset.
"you do makeup better than me," seunghan explained, nudging the bag toward you. "i'm meeting some people at a club tonight and i wanna look good."
"hey guys, i'll be right back," you spoke into the mic of your headset. seunghan smiled triumphantly. he could hear the faint groans and protests from your friends, but you paid them no mind and looked up at your boyfriend from your seat.
"what people?" you asked. you poked around in the bag a little before looking at seunghan again intently.
"eunseok and sohee. and they said there's some other people coming that i haven't met before."
you nodded and smiled at him. "that sounds fun."
seunghan nodded eagerly, "yeah, i'm excited!"
you liked seeing seunghan all happy and jittery. he didn't go out very often unless it was with you, so you enjoyed seeing him make more friends.
"let me go get my brushes."
seunghan nodded again, watching you walk off to the bathroom. he could still hear the voices of some of your friends talking through the headset that now laid on your desk. he grinned and put it on while taking a seat in your chair.
"hi guys!"
"is that seunghannie??"
"yes, hi!!" seunghan smiled widely at the sound of shotaro's voice. after almost four years of being with you, he'd grown to love your friends.
"thanks for taking y/n away from us!" anton joked sarcastically.
"sorry, what can i do? he's obsessed with me," seunghan replied.
"and who wouldn't be obsessed with you, baby?" you chimed in as you came back to the bedroom.
seunghan smiled at that response. his eyes widened a little when you were suddenly right in front him as he sat, your eyes gazing at him lovingly. you leaned down farther toward the mic while keeping your eyes on him.
"i'm actually just gonna log off, guys. i'll talk to you tomorrow," you spoke. the complaints and shouts of your friends were disregarded as you gently took the headset off of your boyfriend. you could practically hear his heart beat through his chest beneath you, making a tiny smirk curve on your lips. you finally broke eye contact to look at your computer instead. you closed the game and turned the system off completely.
"you didn't have to leave, it won't take long to do makeup," seunghan assured. he grabbed the sleeve of your shirt and tugged on it with a frown, but you shook your head.
"i was getting tired anyways."
"mm, okay.."
"so what do you want me to do?" you asked as you began setting up. you sat on the edge of your bed and pulled the chair he stole from you closer.
"i was thinking something kinda subtle-ish, but i like all the pretty details you do."
you smiled, "alright, i can do that then."
seunghan sat and watched you begin to lay a thin layer of foundation on his face. he felt like he was in a trance. he found you mesmerizing.
"why are you looking at me like that?" you asked quietly.
"sorry, i'm just.." seunghan felt himself blush a little. "you're really hot," he blurted out.
you stifled a laugh and continued to blend the makeup onto his skin.
"says you?" you counter back.
"shut up." seunghan smiled and looked down, a reflex of his when he felt like he needed to hide himself.
you gently took his chin and lifted it back up. "i need to see your face, baby."
seunghan nodded and closed his eyes. he let you continue your work for a while while he fidgeted with his hands in his lap. it was a nice, comfortable quiet in your bedroom. seunghan loved enjoying the little things like this with you.
when his eyes opened again, they were locked on you instantly. his gaze shifted to your lips numerous times, but you were paying too much attention to the makeup to notice. eventually your face inched closer to his, and he took the chance to place a quick kiss on your lips. you were a bit taken aback, but immediately broke into a smile.
"listen, are you here to make out or get your makeup done?"
seunghan laughed at your question. "is both an option?"
"no," you replied. "because once we start kissing too much then you will not be going out tonight.."
seunghan watched as you leaned away from him on purpose. he smiled mischievously and ran his hands along your thighs.
"well that's fine too! i don't have to go out tonight."
you shook your head and chuckled. "no, you haven't hung out with your friends in forever. go out and have fun."
he pouted dramatically. "you won't be worried about me meeting new guys?"
"nope."
"what?? i have so much rizz game, you should be worried."
you snickered at his bickering efforts before giving in and awarding him with one more kiss.
"i'm not worried because i trust you."
seunghan shut up at those words.
"okay, that's really sweet.." he muttered. "but what if i wanna stay home with you now?"
"tell you what," you said. "you go out and have a good time with your friends. drink, take stupid pictures, meet some new people. i'll even come pick you up if you really want to leave early. and then tomorrow, we can do whatever you want."
seunghan sighed. "promise?"
"i promise."
"fine."
"good," you replied happily. "all done now. go have fun, baby."
"thank you, y/n."
"of course. call me if you need anything, okay?"
seunghan nodded with a dorky smile. "and you call me if you start to miss me too much."
"oh, i will, hannie. don't worry."
seunghan grabbed his bag and pranced off to leave your shared apartment, but not before rushing back to kiss you one more time.
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angelicabunny · 1 year ago
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Bookworm.
summary: getting caught reading smut while having to spend the night with chris.
warnings: reader x chris, no established relationship, smutty smut, unprotected sex (don’t be silly), a little swearing.
requested: yes !!
wordcount: 1,563.
quick little a/n: this took my whole soul to write 😭 i hope it’s okay <33 also to the person who requested this a whole ass month ago i’m so sorry babe 😭😭. and i was half asleep while i proofread this, so im so sorry if theres mistakes xoxooo
i let out a small yawn as i sat around the large wooden table with nick and chris. matt had already said his goodnights and helped packed the cameras away after about an hour and a half of filming content.
"tired already?" nick asked jokingly.
i hummed in response while grabbing my book from the other side of the table. the crisp scent of pages filling my nose as i flicked through them looking for my book mark.
"what a nerd." chris teased while giggling.
"leave her alone," nick said, "we can head up to bed now if you'd like?"
nick and i were close, so of course each night i spent at their house we had sleepovers like little kids again, making dumb jokes and giggling all night.
he shut his laptop and tucked it under his arm as he got up, signaling for me to follow him, in the corner of my eye i watched as chris got up and headed the other direction, down the stairs.
i tiptoed up the stairs following nick, his hands lazily pushing the door open before he sunk down onto his bed, immediately opening his laptop to keep editing. i got straight into reading, i had been dying to finish this chapter, especially because it was one of the more interesting chapters.
about thirty minutes had passed and not a single word was spoken from nick. nothing but frustrated huffs and tossing and turning as he typed away. i shut my book before putting it down onto the silk covers.
"nick i can leave if you'd like, go hang with chris, i'm sure he wouldn't mind?" i quietly said not wanting to ruin his focus.
"really? are you sure, i'm really sorry i'm just so behind in editing." he replied.
"of course," i said while holding my hand onto his, "have a good night." i smiled before walking out of the room quietly, book and phone in hand.
i quietly made my way down both flights of stairs not wanting to wake matt. i stood in front of chris's door, my ear pressed against it, the faint sound of music playing let me know he was still awake. i tapped lightly on the door before opening it and poking my head in. the scent of a coconut candle intertwined with chris's scent filling my nose.
"come in," he said faintly his attention still on his phone before turning his head to see who it was, "oh hey." he said with a smile, patting the spot on the bed next to him inviting me to lay down.
i filled the spot next to him, lying on my stomach before reopening my book. he lied next to me on his back, one hand holding his head up as the other scrolled on his phone.
i looked at my page while trying to contain myself, excited for what was coming. my fingers gripping the cover tighter than before, my teeth lightly biting down on my bottom lip, my legs now squeezed together trying to satisfy the heat growing in between them.
i was so lost in a trance i forgot chris was beside me. he had changed positions and was now facing me, head propped up on one arm, his blue eyes locked onto mine. i felt heat rising in my cheeks before quickly closing my book.
“what?” i asked shyly.
“nothing,” he replied, his voice deeper and raspier than usual, “what’s so good about that book anyways, it’s got you acting like a damn book worm.”
“it’s just interesting, i guess.” i said sheepishly, not mentioning the fact i was reading straight smut with him right next to me.
“let me see.” he said while trying to grab the book. my reflexes instantly pulled it away from him, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
“it’s really boring, trust me you won’t like it.” i said bluntly trying to keep my cool. i turned my gaze away from him to play it off, my book sitting in one hand with one finger inserted to keep my place. before i could react he snatched the book from my hand while giggling, opening to the page i had saved.
“chris-!” i whisper yelled not wanting to disturb the rest of the house, my hands flying over to him. he turned away and held the book out of my reach. his eyes frantically scanning the page as the corners of his swollen pink lips turned up. i turned away from him, burying my face into my hands.
“here's your book back.” he said while trying to wave it at me, my face still turned away from him. “you don't have to be embarrassed you know.”
“are you serious chris!” i replied while turning my body to face him, snatching the book from his hands. “that’s so embarrassing.”
“not really,” he said while taking me in with his eyes, “i see why you’re so interested in that book now.” he continued while licking his lips slightly.
i found it hard to keep my gaze locked with his, my core still throbbing, a wetness coating me. his lips parted while his chest rose and fell.
“what do you mean?” i asked innocently, placing the book on the bedside table before propping my head up on one arm to match his position.
his eyes fell from mine, moving to my body, taking me in. his hand placing itself on my side exposed by the short top that hugged my skin, i felt myself shudder beneath his touch as he stroked me lightly. his finger hooked around my waistband, toying with it, asking for permission almost.
"chris," i whispered, "we can't."
"mm, why not." he replied huskily while still playing with the fabric of my sweats.
"nick might hear." i said while slowly moving his hand from my side, keeping it in mine as i watched his eyes.
"c'mon, you have to be at least a little freaky if you're reading shit like that," he teased, "i've wanted you for so long, don't pretend you havent noticed ma." he continued speaking while watching my lips.
i looked down in defeat before moving my face closer to his, closing the gap in between us. my mouth hovered above his as he breathed lightly coating my lips in a hot air.
before i could say anything his hand gripped my face roughly pulling me into him, his lips showing how hungry he was for my own. he broke the kiss only to move to my neck, leaving harsh bites before soothing them with his tongue. i rushed to take my sweats off, tossing them to the floor leaving me in nothing but a short top and black panties.
"turn over," he said while pulling away, "all fours baby."
i followed his demands and pressed my face into the pillow, facing the side of the room where a large mirror sat, i watched him in the mirror as he pulled his sweats down letting them rest below his thighs, followed by his boxers. his cock sprung out hitting the fabric of his shirt as he causing him to let out a hiss through his teeth. his tip red and needy, leaking with precum.
"try and be quiet." he said while rubbing my lower back with his hands. i hummed in response while still watching him in the mirror as he lazily tugged on his cock before lining it up with my entrance, rubbing it up and down my slit, collecting my arousal before placing his tip into me.
"god you're wet."
he let out a quiet grunt before bottoming out, reaching places i could never on my own. i clenched onto the bedsheets trying to contain my whimpers, my knuckles going white.
quiet moans and curses left his mouth as my ass bounced off his pelvis, the sound of our skin slapping filling the room.
“oh god chris” i moaned, not being able to stay quiet anymore.
“shh baby, don’t wanna get caught now do we?” he gripped my waist as he spoke, pulling me into him harder.
i could feel my slick dripping down my thighs as he picked his pace up, my eyes having no place to go but the back of my head. we both gave up on being quiet a while ago, more whimpers and groans filled the room.
“mmh, s-so close.” i said pathetically while gripping onto the pillow.
with one quick movement he pulled out and flipped me over, his eyes now locked onto mine as he pushed back in.
“i wanna see your pretty face while you cum.” he breathed out.
his thrust becoming harder as i came closer to the edge, the feeling growing at my core as my nails dug into his back for support.
“oh f-fuck.” i whimpered, feeling the waves of pleasure fill me.
his eyes watching my face twist in pleasure, his thrusts getting sloppier.
“s-shit.” he stuttered before snapping his hip into me, his warm cum filling me up as he left a soft kiss on my lips.
both out of breath while he pulled out of my softly, fixing my underwear and his pants.
“why don’t i clean you up?” he said quietly while looking over at the bathroom door.
i nodded in response while kissing him softly, his fingers running through my hair.
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mcrdvcks · 1 month ago
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i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 2004 - i love you, i'm sorry
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chapter summary: After an incident involving Jean and Scott at Alkali Lake, the team tries to figure out what happened and how to help their teammate.
word count: 9.1k+
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
notes: i know that technically 'the last stand' takes place in 2006, three years after 'x2', but for the sake of the story, i moved it forward some (hell, the story line is already ruined, jean's alive!). this pretty much follows the movie almost exactly, with a few changes and character switches, you'll see when you read ;)
also, i didn't write the full movie, there were some scenes i felt didn't need to be in the story or wouldn't contribute anything to what i'm writing, so there are a lot of skips.
warnings/tags: follows events of 'the last stand' (strays slightly), slight fluff, angst, violence, character death(s)
series masterlist - chapter 8, chapter 8.5 → chapter 10
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“What the hell was that?” Ororo asked.
“Danger Room session.” Logan answered.
“You know what I mean.”
“Oh, lighten up, Storm.”
“Look, you can’t just change the rules when you feel like it. I’m tryin’ to teach ‘em something.”
“I taught ‘em something.”
“It was a defensive exercise.”
“Yeah. Best defensive is a good offense.” Logan tilted his head, “or is it the other way around?”
Ororo stopped walking and turned to face him, “this isn’t a game, Logan.”
“Well, you sure fooled me. Hey, I’m just a sub. You got a problem, talk to Scott.”
The elevator doors opened as you walked out into the sleek silver halls, “and where is Scott anyways?” Ororo asked.
You held a clipboard as you walked over to the two, the soft click of your shoes against the metallic floors catching Ororo’s attention. Adjusting your glasses with one hand, you scanned the paper in front of you before answering.
“Jean said something about going somewhere, and Scott followed. I’m not sure where though.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Of course, he did,” he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. His gaze shifted to you, softening slightly, though his smirk remained. “What about you, darlin’? You checkin’ in on us or just tryin’ to make sure I’m not causin’ trouble?”
“Little bit of both,” you replied quietly, a shy smile creeping onto your face. The teasing in his tone always made your heart skip, but you weren’t about to let him know that. Not yet, at least.
“Good luck with that,” Ororo said dryly, crossing her arms as she regarded Logan. “He’s impossible.”
“I heard that,” Logan shot back, though his eyes were still locked on you. His stance relaxed, hands casually slipping into his pockets. “And I ain’t impossible, sweetheart. Just a little... unconventional.”
Ororo rolled her eyes, but you couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you. “Unconventional is one word for it,” you muttered under your breath, glancing down at your clipboard.
Logan chuckled at that, stepping closer until he was standing just a foot or so away. “You’re spendin’ too much time with me if you’re pickin’ up my bad habits,” he said, his voice lower now, meant just for you.
Your cheeks warmed, and you adjusted your glasses, focusing on the notes in front of you to avoid his piercing gaze. “Someone has to keep you in check,” you countered softly, earning another grin from him.
Ororo cleared her throat, her expression a mix of mild annoyance and amusement. “If you two are done flirting, can we get back to the matter at hand?”
You blinked, your face flushing even more at her words. “We weren’t—” you started, but Logan cut you off.
“Flirtin’? Nah, Storm, this is just me bein’ charming.” He leaned slightly closer to you, his smirk widening. “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”
Your lips parted, but no words came out. The warmth in your cheeks spread, and you quickly turned your attention back to Ororo, hoping to steer the conversation back on track. “Uh, right. The Danger Room session,” you said, clearing your throat. “I think it went... well? Mostly?”
“Mostly,” Ororo echoed, raising an eyebrow at Logan. “You mean aside from him completely derailing the exercise?”
“C’mon,” Logan said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “The kids learned somethin’. That’s the point, right?”
“They were supposed to learn defensive techniques,” Ororo pointed out, her tone sharp. “Not how to dive headfirst into a fight.”
Logan shrugged. “Sometimes a good offense—”
“—is the best defense,” Ororo finished for him, shaking her head. “Yes, we’ve heard it before. It’s still not what we were working on.”
You glanced between them, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. Logan’s ability to push Ororo’s buttons was almost an art form, but you knew he respected her, even if he’d never admit it outright.
“Maybe next time,” you said gently, stepping in before the argument could escalate further, “you two can coordinate beforehand? That way, no one’s caught off guard.”
Logan tilted his head, considering your suggestion, while Ororo gave you a small nod of approval. “Fair enough,” Logan said finally, his tone begrudging but not unkind. “But I still think my way’s better.”
Ororo shot him a look, and you couldn’t suppress the laugh that bubbled up this time. “Let’s just call it a draw and move on,” you said, earning a chuckle from Logan and a sigh from Ororo.
“You’re too nice to him,” Ororo muttered as she turned to leave. “One of these days, you’ll regret it.”
Logan’s eyes followed her until she disappeared down the hall, then shifted back to you. “She’s got a point, y’know,” he said, his tone teasing. “You’re way too nice to me.”
“Someone has to be,” you replied without missing a beat, though your voice remained soft.
His grin widened, and he took another step closer, his hand brushing lightly against your arm. The casual intimacy of the gesture made your pulse quicken. “Lucky for me, huh?” he murmured.
Your eyes darted to his, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. The steady, grounding presence of Logan was all you could focus on. His hand lingered against your arm, his touch warm and familiar in a way that made you feel safe and seen.
“Yeah,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Lucky for you.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up, and he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping even lower. “Y’know, darlin’, if we keep this up, Storm’s gonna start thinkin’ she’s right.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you pulled back just enough to regain your composure. “Let her think what she wants,” you said, though the warmth in your cheeks betrayed your attempt at nonchalance.
Logan’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he finally stepped back, his hand falling away from your arm. “Alright,” he said, his tone light but his eyes still holding that unmistakable softness. “Guess I’ll see you later, then.”
“Yeah,” you said, your smile shy but genuine. “See you later.”
As he walked away, you couldn’t help but watch him go, your heart still racing from the exchange. It was moments like these that reminded you just how deeply he’d wormed his way into your life—and your heart.
---
“-sound waves almost always generate a little bit of heat as they travel, and almost always end up as heat when they are absorbed. Sound and heat are both macroscopic descriptions of the movement of atoms and molecul- ” Sharp ringing in your head cut you off, with the Professor’s voice ringing in not only your head, but everyone else’s.
“Scott. Scott. Scott. Scott. Scott. Scott- ”
You put down the dry erase marker on your desk and ran towards the Professor’s office, getting there at the same time Logan and Ororo did.
“Professor, you okay?” Logan asked.
“Get to Alkali Lake.”
---
The Blackbird descended down beneath the fog into a wooded area. As the three of you descended the ramp hardly anything could be seen.
You all walked slowly through the area, small objects like the leaves you stepped on and dew floating without any of you noticing.
“I can’t see a damn thing.” Logan said.
“I can take care of that.” Ororo looked up at the sky as she cleared the fog from the beach to reveal rocks and small debris floating above the sand.
“What the…” Logan muttered. A small rock floated close by as he gently tapped it, making it float away.
The three of you shared a glance before splitting up, walking in different directions but never straying too far. After a few moments Ororo’s voice broke out, “guys!”
You and Logan ran over to where Ororo was kneeling. Her hand rested on Jean's arm as she leaned closer to inspect her unconscious form. The redhead looked peaceful, almost too peaceful for someone sprawled out on the rocky ground.
"Jean," you said, voice soft but urgent as you crouched down. Your fingers pressed to the side of her neck, searching for a pulse. Relief flooded you when you found it—steady and strong. "She's alive."
Logan exhaled sharply through his nose, crouching beside you. "She doesn't look hurt," he muttered, his brow furrowed as he scanned her face. "But what the hell happened out here?"
"I don't know," Ororo said, her voice tight with concern. "But this... this isn’t normal." She gestured at the debris floating lazily in the air around you. Even the faintest breeze didn’t seem to disturb the unnatural stillness of the objects.
You brushed a strand of Jean’s hair away from her face, your fingers trembling slightly. “We should get her back to the mansion,” you said. “The Professor might be able to help.”
Logan nodded. “I’ll carry her.” Without hesitation, he slipped his arms beneath Jean and lifted her with ease, cradling her close to his chest. His eyes flicked to you briefly, his expression softening for just a moment. “Stay close.”
You nodded, your hand instinctively brushing against his arm as you rose to your feet. The three of you started back toward the Blackbird, the eerie quiet of the area pressing down on you like a weight. The leaves and rocks continued to float aimlessly, defying gravity in a way that made your skin crawl.
Once aboard the Blackbird, Logan gently set Jean down on one of the seats, securing her with a harness. You sat beside her, keeping a close eye on her for any signs of movement. Logan and Ororo moved to the cockpit, preparing for takeoff.
“Anything?” Logan asked as he glanced back over his shoulder at you.
You shook your head, biting your lip. “She hasn’t moved.” Your fingers lightly brushed against Jean’s wrist, feeling the steady thrum of her pulse again. “But she’s stable.”
Logan grunted, his jaw tightening. “Good. Let’s get back and figure out what the hell’s goin’ on.”
---
You and the Professor were in the medbay, with him sitting at the head of the bed while you ran scans of Jean’s brain and kept an eye on her vitals.
“Is she gonna be okay?” You asked.
“Jean Grey is the only class five mutant I’ve ever encountered, her potential practically limitless. Her mutation is seated in the unconscious part of her mind, and therein lay the danger. When she was a girl, I created a series of psychic barriers to isolate her powers from her conscious mind. And, as a result, Jean developed a dual personality.”
“W-what?” You muttered.
“The conscious Jean, whose powers were always in her control… and the dormant side, a personality that, in our sessions, came to call itself the Phoenix—a purely instinctual creature, all desire and joy… and rage.”
You thought back to the Jean you knew, she was kind and calm, she could never be… this. “Did Jean know about this?” You questioned, holding the tablet to your chest.
“It’s unclear how much she knew. Far more critical is whether the woman in front of us is the Jean Grey we know or the Phoenix furiously struggling to be free.”
“Well, she looks… peaceful.” You observed, tilting your head as you looked at her still calm expression.
“Because I’m keeping her that way.” Charles spoke, “I’m trying to restore the psychic blocks and cage the beast again.”
You straightened, “are you… trying to control her?”
“She has to be.”
“What happens if you just make the beast angry and it lashes out? What happens then?”
“You have no idea,” Charles said quietly, “you have no idea of what she’s capable. I had a choice to make. I chose the lesser of two evils.”
“Did Jean even have a choice in this?” you asked quietly.
Charles turned his head away from you, “I don’t have to explain myself.” He said, before hovering his hands over Jean’s head, ending the conversation.
You let out a small huff and walked over to some of the monitors at the other end of the medbay.
---
You fixed the attachments on Jean’s chest, but before you could pull your hand away completely, she grabbed your wrist, making you gasp slightly. The headpiece floated off her head, hovering over the ground.
“Jean,” you said softly.
She blinked before turning her head over to you, “hey, Y/N.” Jean said quietly, you barely even heard her.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. More than okay,” she said, almost dreamlike. Her fingers lingered on your wrist, the contact grounding and unsettling all at once. She took off the diodes attached to her chest as you looked down at the tablet in your hands.
You stared at her, uncertain, the tablet still clutched in your hand. “Jean, maybe you should rest,” you suggested gently, your voice low and steady. “You’ve been through a lot.”
Her lips quirked into a faint smile—soft, almost playful, yet something about it felt… off. “I feel fine,” she replied, her tone silkier now. She sat up slowly, her movements fluid and unhurried, and the headpiece hovering near her floated to the side, settling on the counter without a sound. “Better than fine, actually.”
Jean adjusted her position, her legs on either side of yours, and you took a small step back, uneasy. Her hand slid down to yours, her fingers curling loosely around yours, grounding you in place.
"Jean, maybe I should call the Professor," you murmured, your voice steady despite the unease pooling in your stomach. “He’ll want to check on you.”
Her fingers tightened slightly around yours. “You don’t need to call him, Y/N,” she said softly, her tone soothing yet laced with something you couldn’t quite place. “I’m fine. I feel… better than fine.”
Her gaze was sharp, piercing, and for a brief moment, you felt like she was looking through you rather than at you. It made you shift on your feet, uncertain, your free hand clutching the tablet close to your chest.
“You’ve been through a lot,” you said carefully, trying to read her expression, though the faint, almost otherworldly smile she wore didn’t make it any easier. “Rest would be good. We just want to make sure you’re—”
“I know you’re worried about me,” she interrupted, her voice dipping lower. “You always are. You’ve always cared so much, Y/N.”
You blinked at her, the words striking a tender, vulnerable chord. “Of course I care, Jean,” you replied. “We’re friends. I just—”
“Friends,” she repeated, her smile widening slightly as her thumb brushed against your knuckles. “We are, aren’t we? Good friends…” Her tone lingered on the last word, almost teasing, and her gaze dropped to where her hand held yours.
The warmth of her touch seeped into your skin, steady and grounding, but her proximity—the way her body leaned into yours, her legs bracketing your stance—made the air in the room feel heavy, charged.
“Jean,” you said softly, “something feels off. Are you sure you’re—”
Before you could finish, she leaned forward, her free hand rising to cup the side of your face. The movement was fluid, almost too quick to process, and you froze, your breath catching as her thumb grazed your cheek.
“Y/N,” she murmured, her voice softer now, almost hypnotic. “You don’t have to be so careful around me. You’re always so careful, always holding back…”
Her words were gentle, but something about them tugged at a darker undercurrent, like a melody slightly out of tune. You shook your head, your pulse quickening. “Jean, I’m not holding back. I just think we should—”
She tilted her head, her fingers tracing the edge of your jaw with a featherlight touch. “I feel alive,” she said, almost to herself, her smile shifting into something more intense. “For the first time in… I don’t even know how long.” Her eyes locked onto yours, the green depths swirling with something unsteady, something you couldn’t name.
“You’ve always made me feel steady, Y/N,” she continued, her voice low, intimate. “Even when everything else feels out of control. Don’t you see how special that is? How special you are?”
Your heart raced, and you took another step back, trying to create space, but she didn’t let go. If anything, her hold on you seemed to tighten, her body leaning closer.
“Jean,” you tried again, your voice firmer now. “This isn’t like you. We should—”
“I don’t want to talk about what I should or shouldn’t do,” she said, her tone hardening slightly, the playful edge fading. “Not right now.”
And before you could react, her lips were on yours—soft, warm, and entirely unexpected. You froze, every thought scattering as her hand on your face anchored you in place.
It wasn’t a gentle kiss; it was full of urgency, need, and something deeper—something wilder. Her fingers curled into your hair, and she pulled you closer, the tablet in your hands slipping to the floor with a quiet thud.
Your instinct was to pull away, to say something, but the intensity of it—the sheer force of her presence—kept you rooted. Her lips moved against yours, her grip on you firm yet not forceful, and for a fleeting moment, the warmth of her touch and the closeness of her body overwhelmed every rational thought.
You could faintly hear the monitors around you buzzing and hissing as Jean moved to slip off the cardigan on your shoulders, only pulling it halfway down your arms before holding on to your shoulders and pulling you down onto the med table.
As you hovered over her, Jean’s legs moved up, hooking around your waist. The movement was deliberate, too fluid to feel natural, and the contact sent a shiver down your spine—not entirely out of discomfort, but because there was a weight behind it, a pull you couldn’t seem to resist.
Her hand slipped from your wrist to the back of your neck, her fingers threading gently through your hair as she guided you closer. The kiss deepened, her lips soft yet insistent, and a strange warmth spread through your chest. Your mind screamed at you to pull back, to say something, but your body refused to listen.
You could feel it—the way her presence wrapped around you like a magnetic field, leaving you caught in its orbit. Every brush of her lips, every tilt of her head felt intentional, purposeful, as though she was unraveling something inside you, piece by piece.
“Jean,” you murmured against her mouth, barely audible. You tried to move your hands to push yourself away, but instead, they landed on either side of her hips, as if they had a will of their own. “This isn’t…”
“This isn’t what?” she whispered back, her voice breathless yet commanding. Her lips ghosted along your jawline, trailing heat in their wake, and you couldn’t suppress the faint hitch in your breath. “Tell me what feels wrong, Y/N.”
Her tone wasn’t accusing or angry; it was low, almost coaxing, as though she was daring you to argue when every fiber of your being wanted to agree with her. That pull—that inexplicable force—felt like a tether, one you couldn’t cut even if you wanted to.
“This isn’t you,” you managed, your voice trembling. “Jean, please, we need to stop.”
She leaned back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, and the intensity in her eyes made your stomach twist. Her green irises swirled faintly, like something untamed was stirring beneath the surface. “Why?” she asked softly, her fingers brushing against the side of your neck. “Why are you so afraid of this?”
“I’m not—” You paused, swallowing hard, trying to focus despite the fog clouding your thoughts. “I’m not afraid. I just… I care about you. And this—this isn’t fair to you.”
Her lips quirked into a small, almost sad smile, though the flicker of something darker behind her eyes didn’t waver. “You always care so much,” she murmured, her fingers tracing a slow path down to your collarbone. “That’s what makes you so… special.”
You finally found the strength to shift, moving off of her and standing by the bed. “Jean, I mean it,” you said, your voice steadier now. “This isn’t you.”
Jean reached out again, moving to grab your face, “yes. Yes, it is me.”
You grabbed her wrists, holding them to her chest, “no. Maybe you need to take it easy. The professor said you might be different.”
"He would know, wouldn’t he?" she said, her voice low and cutting. "What? You think he’s not in your head too? Look at you, Y/N. Always so careful, so measured—every step thought out, every word calculated. Is that really you?"
Her words hit like a jolt, and your pulse quickened as you tried to steady your breathing. You stayed silent, unable to come up with a response before settling on, “where’s Scott?” You let go of her wrists as she looked away, “Jean?”
Tears started to fill her eyes, “where am I?”
“You’re in the mansion.” You gently rested your hands on her shoulders, “you need to tell me what happened to Scott.” Jean couldn’t meet your eyes; they kept flickering around the room. “Jean, tell me what happened to him.” You reached over and grabbed Scott’s glasses from a nearby table, the ones Logan found at Alkali Lake.
Jean looked down at the glasses in your hand before her eyes widened, “oh, God,” she muttered. She closed her eyes as creaking sounded out around you. You looked over to one of the tables where screws were being unscrewed and then back at your hands where Scott’s glasses turned to dust.
The computers started to buzz louder as a few objects started to float. “Jean!” You grabbed the sides of her face hesitantly, “look at me.” The metal cabinet door opened, and objects started to fall out onto the floor. “Stay with me.” Your hand’s traveled to her shoulders again, “come on, look at me. Look at me.”
Jean’s eyes were closed, “no.”
“Jean. Jean! Focus.”
She finally opened her eyes, looking at you with a tearful, frightened expression, “kill me.”
“What?” You whispered in disbelief.
“Kill me before I kill someone else.” She cried, tears falling down her face.
“No, don’t say that- ”
“Please.”
“Stop.”
“Kill me.” Jean said again, as the tables shifted and rattled, and the glass on the cabinet’s shattered.
“Stop, look at me. Look at me, Jean. Everything will be okay. We can help you. The professor can help. He can fix it.”
Suddenly Jean’s eyes went pitch black as she hissed, “I don’t want to fix it!” With a telekinetic shove, she threw you against the wall, effectively knocking you out.
---
“Y/N?” Logan’s hand landed on your shoulders, waking you up.
Your glasses were askew on your face as he adjusted them. “Jean?” You sat up and looked around the med bay, only to find Ororo and Charles by the door, Logan still kneeling next to you.
“What happened?” Logan asked.
“What have you done?” Charles questioned, rolling a little closer.
You looked from Charles, to Ororo, then Logan. “I think she killed Scott.”
“What?” Ororo whispered, “that’s not possible.”
“I warned you.” Charles spoke again, before closing his eyes. “She’s left the mansion, but she’s trying to block my thoughts. She’s so strong. It may be too late.”
---
You hurried to catch up to Logan as he followed Ororo and Charles toward the garage, your steps quick but uncertain. “Logan, wait,” you called, adjusting your glasses as they slid down your nose.
He stopped, turning to look at you, his expression already tense. His gaze softened briefly when it landed on you, but his jaw tightened again almost immediately. “What is it, sweetheart?” he asked, his tone even but edged with something you couldn’t quite place.
“I’m coming with you,” you said firmly, surprising even yourself with the steadiness in your voice. You clasped your hands in front of you, gripping them tightly to stop them from trembling.
Logan’s brows furrowed, and he shook his head. “No, you’re not.”
You blinked, taken aback by his bluntness. “Why not? I can help. Jean is—she’s my friend, too. If something’s going on with her, I should be there.”
“It’s not safe,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. He stepped closer to you, lowering his head so he could look you in the eyes. “This isn’t some training mission, Y/N. Jean’s not herself. You saw what she did back there—she threw you into a wall without even trying. I’m not letting that happen again.”
You tilted your chin up, refusing to back down. “I can handle myself,” you replied, though the words didn’t feel as convincing as you wanted them to.
Logan let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. “Darlin’, you don’t need to prove anything. You’re not a fighter, and that’s okay. It doesn’t mean you’re not strong—it just means this isn’t the right place for you.”
His words stung more than they should have. He wasn’t saying it outright, but you couldn’t help but hear what wasn’t being said: Your powers aren’t enough. You’re not enough.
“I’ve been training,” you insisted, your voice quieter now. “I’ve been working with Ororo and… Scott—I’m not useless, Logan.”
“I never said you were,” he shot back, his tone softening slightly. He reached out, his hand brushing against your arm, but you stepped back, out of reach. His hand dropped to his side, and for a moment, his frustration flickered into something closer to regret.
“Then why won’t you let me come?” you asked, your voice wavering despite your efforts to keep it steady.
Logan hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. “Because I can’t lose you,” he admitted, his voice rough but honest. “Not again.”
The weight of his words hit you like a punch to the chest. You stared at him, your lips parting slightly as you tried to process what he’d said. “What do you mean, ‘again’?” you asked quietly.
Logan’s jaw tightened, and he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he said gruffly. “What matters is keeping you safe. And that means you’re staying here.”
You wanted to argue, to demand answers, but the look in his eyes stopped you. There was something there—something raw and vulnerable that you didn’t recognize.
“I can help,” you said softly, one last attempt.
Logan stepped closer, his hand cupping the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I know you can,” he said, his voice low and steady. “But not this time. Please, darlin’. Stay here. For me.”
You swallowed hard, your resolve crumbling under the weight of his plea. Finally, you nodded, your eyes stinging with unshed tears.
“Okay,” you whispered.
Logan leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you,” he murmured against your skin before pulling back.
As he turned and followed Ororo to the garage, you stayed where you were, watching him go. The weight of his words lingered in your chest, heavy and suffocating.
Not again.
---
After the Professor’s funeral, you found yourself alone in the medbay, your hands mechanically picking up the remnants of the chaos Jean—or whatever she had become—had left behind. Broken glass crunched underfoot as you swept it into a dustpan, the sound sharp in the oppressive silence. You set the broom aside and started straightening the overturned tables and scattered supplies, doing your best to focus on the task and not the knot tightening in your chest.
But the quiet didn’t last.
At first, it was faint—barely a whisper—but it stopped you mid-motion.
“Y/N…”
Your name.
You froze, gripping the edge of the counter. The room was empty. You were sure of it.
“Y/N…”
This time, the voice was unmistakable. Jean’s voice, soft but disoriented, echoing in the corners of your mind.
“Where… where am I?”
Your breath hitched. “Jean?” you called out, turning in a slow circle, your voice trembling. “Jean, is that you?”
There was no response, but the air seemed heavier now, charged with something unseen. You swallowed hard and braced yourself against the counter, your knuckles turning white.
“Y/N…” Her voice came again, fainter this time, almost pleading.
“Jean, where are you?” you asked, louder this time. The room remained silent, her voice fading into the ether.
You pressed your palms to your temples, trying to steady yourself. It wasn’t just hearing her voice—it was the desperation in it, the confusion. Something wasn’t right, and the knot in your chest grew tighter.
---
You didn’t remember walking to Logan’s room, but here you were, standing in the doorway. Most of your things had already migrated here over the past several months—sweaters draped over his chair, books stacked on the nightstand next to his bed. Now, you moved on autopilot, grabbing a bag and hastily stuffing a few essentials inside.
“Y/N,” Logan’s gruff voice startled you, and you turned to see him standing in the doorway. His sharp gaze moved from you to the bag in your hands, and his brows furrowed. “What are you doing?” he asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
“I need to go,” you said, your voice firmer than you felt. “Jean… she—she’s out there, Logan. I heard her.”
Logan’s expression darkened, and he shook his head. “No. You’re not going anywhere.”
You turned back to the bed, ignoring him as you zipped up the bag. “I can’t just stay here. She’s my friend—”
“And she’s dangerous,” Logan cut you off, his voice rising. He crossed the room in two quick strides, grabbing your bag and setting it down on the floor. “I told you to stay put.”
You clenched your fists, taking a step back. “You can’t just tell me what to do, Logan. I’m not some fragile thing that needs protecting. I can help—”
“Help?” Logan’s jaw clenched, and he ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t understand, Y/N. This isn’t some rescue mission. Jean’s not herself anymore—hell, I don’t even know if she’s still Jean.”
“She’s still in there,” you insisted, your voice cracking. “I know she is.”
Logan exhaled sharply, his shoulders tense. “Even if she is, it’s not safe for you to go out there. Not this time.”
“Why not?” you demanded, your frustration boiling over. “Why do you keep saying that like I’m some liability? Like I can’t—”
“Because I’ve lost you before!” he snapped, his voice breaking through the tension like a whip.
You froze, his words hanging heavy in the air between you.
“Again,” you repeated softly, your brow furrowing. “You’ve said that before. ‘Not again.’ What do you mean, Logan?”
Logan’s face hardened, and he took a step back, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he muttered.
“The hell it doesn’t!” you shot back, your voice trembling now. “Why won’t you just tell me what’s going on? Why are you acting like this?”
Logan looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he turned away, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair.
“I’ll go,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re staying here.”
“Logan—”
“No.” He turned back to you, his eyes fierce. “Stay here, Y/N. That’s final.”
You watched as he walked out, the door closing behind him with a soft click. The knot in your chest tightened until it felt like you couldn’t breathe.
You sank onto the edge of the bed, your head in your hands.
“Jean…” you whispered, her voice still echoing faintly in your mind.
---
You pulled your gloves onto your hands, flexing your fingers to adjust to the snug leather. The gesture felt mechanical, a distraction as your mind churned with everything that had happened—Jean’s voice in your head, Logan’s refusal to let you go, and the weight of everything unsaid between you two.
The sound of heavy footsteps behind you pulled you from your thoughts. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Logan. He always moved with a certain weight, purposeful yet cautious, like he was constantly bracing himself for the next fight.
"Y/N," Logan’s voice was softer than you expected. When you turned, he was standing just inside the doorway, his gaze dropping briefly to your gloved hands before meeting your eyes. His expression was guarded, but there was something else there—hesitation? Guilt?
You didn’t say anything, waiting for him to break the silence.
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I owe you an apology.”
That wasn’t what you expected. You blinked, unsure how to respond, so you stayed quiet.
Logan stepped closer, his movements slower, more deliberate than usual. “For earlier,” he continued, his voice low but steady. “For not letting you come with us to find Jean. For not listening to you when you said she was still in your head.”
You swallowed hard, glancing down at your gloves as you flexed your fingers again. “You didn’t have to apologize,” you said softly, though the tension in your voice betrayed your feelings. “You were trying to protect me. I get that.”
Logan frowned, stepping even closer until he was just a few feet away. “No, darlin’, you don’t get it,” he said, his tone sharpening slightly. “You’re in my head all the time, Y/N. Every damn second. And when I saw what Jean did—when I saw that had you hit that wall—I couldn’t...” He trailed off, his jaw tightening as he looked away for a moment, like he was trying to keep himself in check.
“Couldn’t what?” you asked, your voice quieter now, hesitant but insistent.
His eyes met yours again, and this time, the rawness in his gaze made your chest ache. “I couldn’t risk it,” he admitted, his voice rough. “I couldn’t risk losing you.”
You took a shaky breath, the weight of his words settling over you. “I wasn’t asking you to risk me, Logan,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “I was asking you to trust me. To believe that I could help. Jean’s my friend too, and I—” You paused, your throat tightening.
Logan’s face softened, and he reached out, his hands settling on your shoulders. His touch was firm but careful, grounding. “I know you’re strong, Y/N. Hell, you’re stronger than most people I’ve met. But this... This isn’t like anything we’ve faced before.”
You looked down, your gaze falling to the collar of his suit as you fought back the sting of tears. “You don’t think I can handle it,” you said, barely above a whisper.
“I didn’t say that,” Logan replied quickly, his thumbs brushing against your shoulders in a soothing motion. “I know you can handle more than I give you credit for. But that doesn’t mean I want you to.”
Your head snapped up at that, your brow furrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’ve already lost you five times,” Logan said, his voice cracking slightly on the last two words. “And I can’t—” He stopped, closing his eyes briefly before continuing. “I can’t go through it again, Y/N. Even if you don’t remember, I do. Every life, every time. And it always ends the same way—with me losing you.”
The room seemed to tilt around you as his words sank in. “What are you talking about?” you asked, your voice barely audible. “Logan, what do you mean, ‘every life’?”
Logan’s hands dropped from your shoulders, and he took a step back, running a hand over his face. “I can’t explain it,” he said gruffly. “Not now. Not here. Just... trust me when I say that keeping you safe is the only thing that matters to me.”
You opened your mouth to argue, to demand answers, but the look in his eyes stopped you. There was so much pain there, so much unspoken grief, that you didn’t know where to start.
Instead, you reached out, your gloved hand brushing against his. “Logan,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His lips twitched into a faint, fleeting smile, and he nodded, clasping your hand in his. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I don’t think I could take it if you did.”
For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you. Then Logan leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Come on,” he said quietly. “The team’s waiting.”
You nodded, swallowing hard, but didn’t move right away. Instead, you reached out, your hand finding his wrist, stopping him before he could step away.
“Wait,” you said softly, your voice barely audible over the sound of your heart pounding in your chest.
Logan turned back to you, his brow furrowing as he studied your face. “What is it, darlin’?” he asked, his tone gentle despite the tension in his stance.
Your fingers tightened slightly around his wrist, and you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “I need to tell you something before we go,” you admitted, the words sticking in your throat. “About what happened in the medbay. Before Jean threw me into the wall.”
Logan’s expression darkened instantly, his jaw clenching as he took a step closer. “What happened?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave, low and dangerous.
You hesitated, your stomach twisting as the memory surfaced—the way Jean’s voice had sounded in your head, warm and commanding, how her hands had felt on your face, her lips crashing against yours before you’d even realized what was happening.
“It wasn’t... voluntary,” you said finally, your voice trembling. “Jean—or whatever part of her that’s... different now—she got inside my head. Made me...” You trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, but the look in Logan’s eyes told you he already knew.
“Jesus,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair as he started pacing. “She—she kissed you?”
You nodded, your arms wrapping around yourself as if to shield against the shame still lingering in the back of your mind. “I tried to stop her, Logan. I swear, I—”
“I know you did,” Logan interrupted, his tone softening as he stopped pacing and turned back to you. He crossed the small space between you in two strides, his hands coming up to gently cup your face. “I know, sweetheart. It wasn’t your fault.”
Tears stung your eyes, and you blinked quickly to keep them from falling. “I should’ve told you earlier,” you whispered, guilt gnawing at you. “I just didn’t know how. After everything, I didn’t want to make it worse.”
Logan shook his head, his thumbs brushing lightly against your cheeks. “You didn’t make anything worse,” he said firmly. “Jean’s not herself right now, Y/N. Whatever’s happening to her, it’s got nothing to do with you.”
You searched his face, the sincerity in his eyes grounding you in a way nothing else could. “I’m sorry,” you murmured again, your voice breaking.
“Don’t apologize,” Logan said, leaning down until his forehead rested against yours. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You hear me?”
You nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “Okay.”
For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of his words wrapping around you like a lifeline. Then Logan pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your temple. “You ready?” he asked softly, his hands lingering on your shoulders.
“Yeah,” you said, your voice steadier now. “I’m ready.”
Logan gave you a small nod, his hand sliding down to take yours. His grip was warm and reassuring as he led you out of the room and down the hall toward the hangar.
---
“Jean!” Logan yelled, as the building behind him started to disintegrate. The military cars and its people floated in the air before turning into dust as well.
The water from the lake rose in the air, creating a wall around Alcatraz Island along with the debris.
Jean stood on top of metal, a makeshift platform, as Logan turned to face her, slowly walking towards her. “Jean!” A force knocked Logan back as his own body started to disintegrate, but his healing factor kept up with the dark force, keeping him together.
He grunted as he walked up the hill of metal and rock, and as he reached the top, the top of his suit was gone completely, his body almost glitching as the two forces fought against each other.
Logan finally made it up, now standing in front of Jean.
“You would die for them?” Jean hissed, her eyes pitch black.
Logan's voice was a low growl, each word deliberate and heavy. “No. Not for them.”
Jean’s darkened eyes narrowed, her expression unreadable as her hair billowed unnaturally in the chaos around her. The Phoenix force surged, tearing the air apart with its power, but Logan didn’t falter. His healing factor fought against the disintegration crawling over his body, knitting him back together even as the Phoenix sought to destroy him.
Jean stepped closer, her voice low and distorted, as though layered with something inhuman. “Then why, Logan? Why do you keep coming?”
Logan’s jaw clenched, his breathing heavy. He stared at her—not at the Phoenix, but at the woman he’d once trusted. “Because you’re my friend,” he rasped. “And because I’ve got no choice.”
For a moment, Jean seemed to waver, her expression flickering between the Phoenix’s cold rage and a glimmer of something softer—something human. But the Phoenix roared back with a vengeance, and her face twisted in fury.
"You should’ve stayed away!" she screamed, her voice reverberating in the air as a shockwave blasted out from her, throwing Logan to the ground. Metal debris rained down around him, but he pushed himself to his feet again, his claws extended as he advanced once more.
“Jean, you’re still in there!” Logan yelled over the chaos, his voice rough but desperate. “I know you are! Fight it!”
The Phoenix’s laughter was sharp and hollow. “Jean is gone,” she hissed. “You can’t save her.”
Before Logan could reply, her power flared again, and this time it consumed him completely. The flesh on his arms peeled away under the assault, only to regenerate in the next instant. He screamed in pain but kept moving forward, one step at a time, his determination unwavering.
---
From the safety of the Blackbird, your hands clutched the edge of the seat as you stared out at the destruction unfolding on Alcatraz Island. The others had joined the fight against the Brotherhood, but you’d been ordered—again—to stay behind on the jet by Ororo.
But this time, you hadn’t protested. Because something had stopped you.
A vision.
It wasn’t like the fleeting glimpses you sometimes caught when time slowed down around you. This was something else entirely, a full-blown, horrifying flash of what could be.
In your vision, Logan stood alone, facing Jean—or what she had become. The Phoenix wasn’t just fighting him; she was erasing him. You’d seen the way his body disintegrated over and over again, the agony etched into his face as he fought with every ounce of strength he had. You’d seen him fall.
You’d seen him die.
The image of his broken body burned in your mind, and your chest tightened with fear. Logan’s voice, raw and broken, echoed in your ears from the vision.
“No. Not for them.”
And then—nothing.
The vision had ended there, cutting off abruptly and leaving you gasping for breath. Your hands trembled as you pressed them against your temples, trying to ground yourself, but the weight of what you’d seen was suffocating.
“Logan…” you whispered to yourself, tears welling up in your eyes. The thought of losing him—of him sacrificing himself like that—was unbearable.
He can’t do this alone.
Your fingers tightened on the armrest as you wrestled with your next move. Jean was your friend, and Logan… Logan was everything. You couldn’t just sit here, watching from the sidelines, knowing what might happen.
You made your decision as you walked out of the Blackbird from on top of the building, scaling down the stairs behind the military men who were running away as the air shifted.
On the ground a flash of light caught your eye. You brushed dirt away to find a dagger, maybe something one the mutants or the military had dropped. You put it in your belt, the blade digging into your back.
Metal clinked as parts started to float in the air, screams and panicked yelling creating a symphony. Ororo stopped beside Logan. “I’m the only one who can stop her,” he said. “Get everyone to safety. Go!”
Ororo floated in the air, getting out of the way.
“Jean!” Logan yelled, as the building behind him started to disintegrate. The military cars and its people floated in the air before turning into dust as well.
The water from the lake rose in the air, creating a wall around Alcatraz Island along with the debris.
You swallowed harshly, running up behind him, “Logan!”
The sound of your voice cut through the chaos, making Logan’s head snap around. His eyes widened in shock, quickly narrowing with frustration as you came to a stop beside him. The storm of power surrounding Jean roared, debris spinning wildly in the air like a deadly vortex.
“What the hell are you still doing here?” Logan growled, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer to shield you from the debris. His eyes flicked over you, worry etched deep into his features.
You shook your head, trying to keep your voice steady despite the overwhelming fear clawing at your chest. “I couldn’t just sit there, Logan. I saw what’s going to happen—I felt it. You don’t understand—”
“I understand just fine,” he interrupted sharply, his voice rough with anger and something deeper. “This isn’t a fight you can win. You need to go. Now.”
“No,” you said firmly, stepping closer to him. “I’m not leaving you. Not this time.”
Logan’s jaw clenched, his eyes locking onto yours. “Darlin’, this isn’t about me. It’s about keeping you safe.” His voice softened slightly, the desperation clear. “Please. Don’t make me lose you again.”
Those words made your breath hitch, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the storm, the chaos, even the looming threat of Jean’s power. You stared up at him, your heart breaking at the raw emotion in his gaze.
“I love you,” you whispered, your voice trembling but resolute.
Before Logan could respond, you stood on your toes, cupping his face as you kissed him. It wasn’t a fleeting, desperate kiss—it was full of love, of everything you hadn’t said and everything you couldn’t. His arms tightened around you instinctively, pulling you closer, and for one brief, perfect moment, the world around you seemed to stop.
When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against his as your fingers brushed his jaw. “I love you,” you repeated softly, your voice steady this time.
Logan’s hand slipped to your back, his fingers brushing against the hilt of the dagger tucked into your belt. His body tensed immediately, his eyes snapping open as realization dawned. “No,” he said, his voice breaking as he looked down at you. “No, don’t do this—”
“I’m sorry,” you murmured, tears slipping down your cheeks. “But it has to be me.”
“No!” Logan’s shout was raw, guttural, but before he could stop you, you stepped away from him, your powers flaring to life.
Time slowed to a crawl. The swirling debris froze mid-air, the deadly energy emanating from Jean suspended in place. Logan’s desperate reach toward you was halted, his anguished expression frozen in time as you turned and began climbing the jagged slope toward Jean.
The effort of holding time still burned through you like fire, but you pushed forward, each step feeling heavier than the last. Jean stood at the center of the chaos, her eyes pitch black, her power a violent storm around her.
“Jean,” you whispered as you approached, your voice shaking. “I know you’re still in there.”
For a moment, her expression shifted—confusion, recognition, something painfully human flickered in her gaze. But the Phoenix surged, her power straining against your hold, and Jean’s features twisted into fury.
“I’m so sorry, Jean.”
Her expression changed, briefly, as her voice broke and a single tear trailed down her cheek, “save me.”
“I’m sorry,” you said again, your voice breaking as you pulled the dagger from your belt.
The blade was heavy in your hands, but your resolve didn’t waver. You lunged forward, driving the blade into her chest, straight into her heart.
Jean gasped, her eyes wide as the Phoenix’s power flared one last time before collapsing inward. The black faded from her eyes as she gave you a relieved smile. One that made her seem at peace as her body went limp in your arms.
The strain of holding time still finally became too much. As reality snapped back into motion, the force of it knocked you off your feet. You collapsed beside Jean, the world spinning around you as exhaustion overtook you.
You heard Logan’s voice before anything else.
“Y/N!”
It was a roar, raw and desperate, cutting through the ringing in your ears and the chaos that still lingered around you. You tried to respond, to tell him you were okay, but your body wouldn’t cooperate. The effort of stopping time, of reaching Jean, had taken everything you had left.
Footsteps thundered across the broken ground, and then he was there. Logan dropped to his knees beside you, his hands immediately reaching for you, shaking you gently but urgently. “Sweetheart, no, no—open your eyes,” he pleaded, his voice cracking as his hands moved from your face to your shoulders, searching for signs of life.
Your body was limp in his arms, your chest still, your face losing color.
Logan’s breaths came in short, harsh gasps as he pulled you against him, cradling you like you might slip away entirely if he let go. “Y/N,” he whispered, the single word a broken prayer, an unbearable weight of grief choking him. His hands shook as they smoothed over your hair, as though trying to coax you back to him with touch alone.
He didn’t notice Ororo land nearby, didn’t register her sharp intake of breath as she took in the scene. Her hand came up to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror, but she didn’t approach. Behind her, Bobby and Kitty stood frozen, their expressions stricken, but they too stayed back. Even Peter, with his usual strength and calm, had no words.
Logan didn’t care that they were there. Didn’t care about anything except the motionless weight in his arms. He rocked you slightly, his forehead pressing against yours as his ragged breaths turned into choked sobs. “You weren’t supposed to—damn it, you weren’t supposed to do this,” he growled, his voice breaking as he fought against the tears burning in his eyes. “Not this time. Not again.”
Logan pressed his lips to your forehead, his hands shaking as they cupped your face. “Come on, darlin’,” he whispered, his voice soft and cracked. “You’re stronger than this. You’re too stubborn to leave me. Just—just come back.”
The others stood frozen, unable to move, unable to interrupt the devastating scene unfolding before them. Ororo’s hand clutched her chest, tears streaking down her face as she turned away, giving Logan what little privacy she could in this moment of unbearable pain.
But Logan didn’t notice. He couldn’t notice. His world had narrowed to you—the unbearable stillness of your body, the haunting silence that surrounded you now.
He didn’t let go, even as the destruction around them finally began to settle, the last vestiges of Jean’s power fading into nothingness. His arms tightened around you, his forehead pressing to yours again as he whispered brokenly, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t save you. I’m so damn sorry.”
Time seemed to stand still in the worst possible way. For the first time in his long, painful life, Logan felt completely and utterly powerless. The ring he’d carried for over a century burned like a brand against his chest, a cruel reminder of all the promises he’d never been able to keep.
Logan buried his face against your neck, his voice raw as he whispered, “I was gonna tell you. About the ring. About everything. You—you deserved to know.” His thumb brushed over your cheek, as if he could will the life back into you.
He pulled back, his tear-streaked face contorted in anguish as he gazed down at you. “I love you,” he said, his voice breaking on every syllable. “I’ve loved you through every lifetime, and I’ll love you in the next one, too. But please, sweetheart, don’t make me wait again. Not this time. Please.”
His hands trembled as he touched your cheek again, his thumb brushing over your skin like it might bring you back. “I love you,” he repeated, his voice hoarse. “I’ll always love you.”
But you didn’t move. Your chest didn’t rise. You were gone.
Logan’s breath hitched as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead—one last desperate, lingering moment of tenderness. When he pulled back, his gaze swept over your still features, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and devastation.
Behind him, Ororo, Bobby, Kitty, and Peter stood at a distance, their faces drawn with grief. None of them moved to intervene. They knew better than to intrude on this moment, on Logan’s anguish.
The air felt impossibly heavy as Logan shifted, gathering your lifeless form into his arms. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though handling something too precious to break further. He cradled you close, his head bowing as he let out a shuddering breath. The others watched as he rose to his feet, every muscle in his body screaming in protest, though he showed no sign of it.
“Logan…” Ororo began softly, stepping forward.
He didn’t acknowledge her. His eyes were locked on you, his focus unwavering. Without a word, he turned away, carrying you toward the bridge. There was no Blackbird to take them home—Jean’s power had obliterated it along with so much else—but Logan didn’t seem to care about the logistics. His only concern was you.
The others exchanged a glance, but no one stopped him. Slowly, they followed at a respectful distance, the weight of what had just transpired pressing heavily on them all.
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.......um, sorry???
there are 2 more chapters left! an interlude and then 'days of future past'!
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fairyhaos · 2 years ago
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how seventeen have their s/o sit on their lap for the first time
requested by anon : "hii!!^^ could u make a svt reaction when their s/o is sitting on their lap for the first time? btw i love your writing style!"
notes: i hope this is what you meant? some of these are probs a lil confusing to think about but i hope you get what i mean anyways haha
masterlist
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seungcheol:
you've always been sitting on his lap wym. it's basically you're reserved space whenever you're going to sit on the couch at home, in the armchair at someone else's home, out on a bench in the park, wherever. it's alarming to see you not sitting in his lap, tbh. even if it looks weird to other people, he loves having you in his arms and in his lap bc he gets to put his arms around you and feel your warmth and solidness against him
jeonghan:
the first time it happened he'd tugged you into his lap when the entire group was squishing into one apartment to watch this show together because there were nowhere near enough seats for everyone to sit down individually. asked for permission beforehand, told you it was completely okay and you weren't an uncomfortable weight for him at all. essentially didn't pay attention to the show, was too fixated on drawing patterns along your arms and playing with your fingers
joshua:
you were really sleepy, emerging from your room after sleeping for way too long and joshua was in the living room, on his phone. he laughed at your drowsy state, and patted his thighs half-jokingly for you to come and lay on him and, to his surprise, you really did. relaxed really quickly tho, placing your head in the crook of his neck, adjusting your legs so you're sitting in his lap comfortably and rubs circles into your back. now has you sitting on his lap whenever you're tired n clingy
junhui:
idk he's probably curled up in your lap more often than you're in his. the first time you sat in his lap, though, it was an accident caused by misjudgment of distance but does that mean he's gonna let go of you??? no he had his hands wrapped around your waist in an instant n buried his face into your shoulder so that you couldn't move away. ends up falling asleep bc you're so warm and comfortable on top of him
hoshi:
had wanted you to sit in his lap sooo bad for sooo long bc he adores all forms of clinginess. and so when you go to sit on the sofa but find it full, before you can even Think of going to one of the armchairs he's making grabby hands at you and insisting that his!! lap!! is your!!! free seat!! and is so happy if you're comfortable enough to come and sit on him. will not let you go, is rocking from side to side bc he's just so happy to have you all curled up against him
wonwoo:
he asked it completely out of nowhere. it was a quiet day, and as you were walking past wonwoo reading on the couch, he asked if you wanted to sit on his lap. totally calm, totally casual, and so how else can you reply other than with a yes?? has you rest against his chest, ear beside his collarbone, and he lowers the book a little so that you can see what he's reading too
woozi:
i think he wouldn't want someone sitting in his lap, to be really honest. but the first time you put your head on his thigh, he's freezing up, surprised n flustered by the sudden contact before relaxing rlly quickly as you just close your eyes and rest there against him. it's rather calming, actually, and eventually he gains enough courage through you putting your head in his lap enough times for him to gently run fingers through your hair
minghao:
he's sitting on the floor of the living room cross-legged when you come up to him and ask "is this seat taken?" before plopping into his lap. he's surprised, bc he was kinda zoning out before n didn't even realise you were there, but he doesn't mind bc actually, you fit really perfectly in his lap when he sits like that. wraps his arms around you and rests his head on your shoulder, laughing at the other members yelling during game night
mingyu:
had probably picked you up bridal style and carried you around bc you'd teased him or something, and when he sat down you were still in his arms so you ended up being placed in his lap. with your arms wrapped around his neck and your weight reassuring in his lap, it was sweet for all of three seconds before you push him down and pretend to headlock him instead bc how dare he pick you up like that???? 
dokyeom:
imagine those kdrama-esque scenes where you're bickering in the house then one of you trips and falls backwards onto the sofa behind you. that's basically what happened, n you were the one to reach out to catch the falling seokmin and in the process, ended up in his lap with one knee on his thigh and the other beside his hip. your hands are cradling his head, and he's staring up at you with wide eyes before blushing so hard and ducking his head bc pls this man is a flustered mess for these things
seungkwan:
FOR SOME REASON i'm thinking of it being a really fancy event, with him in a suit n tie and he's sitting at a table all bored and then you come up to him and just sit really casually in his lap. he's going bright red, totally surprised, even more so when you lean over and whisper in his ear that he looks way too handsome and people keep giving him eyes so you Needed a way to show them that he was taken. ends up loving it so much that you sitting in his lap becomes a regular thing
vernon:
has had his thighs used by you as your pillow so many times now, but he's noticed that you've never, like. properly sat in his lap. brings it up w you one day, is utterly confused when you say it's bc you're worried you're too heavy. next time you're watching a movie together, he's pulling you into his lap and keeping you there the entire time bc he wants to prove you're not too heavy for him n also bc he actually really likes it so much
chan:
the first time it happens is bc you're watching a horror movie (that he put on smh) and you'd been basically clinging to him terrified the entire time. one particular jumpscare makes you scream and flinch so hard that you basically squash yourself into his lap, making him laugh. has an arm around your shoulders, covers your eyes for you and keeps you in his lap the entire time. refuses to confirm or deny whether he put on the movie solely for this reason
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boothillssugarmomma · 7 months ago
Note
sunday likes shiny stuff bc ravens likes shiny stuff, its just an idea
I love that idea! Birds all like shiny stuff so I could see him sneaking away with your jewelry and trinkets!
🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀
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Shiny Treasures
(Sunday x Fem!Reader)
cw-: lying Sunday, fluff, embarrassed boy, nervous boy 🤭
🎀 authorsnote: I literally was supposed to post this three weeks ago I'm so sorry 😭
please don't steal my work!
🎀Taglist🎀HSR Master List🎀 Other Lists🎀
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Sunday had...a certain fondness for shiny things...a rather childish and unanticipated flaw to his character, really. No matter how small, insignificant or worthless they were.
Perhaps it had something to do with the halovians' innate desire for attention and glory, that would explain it. Or maybe it was because he was like a bird. But whatever the case, he was rather drawn to the gleam of precious gems and glittery accessories.
He sometimes tries to snatch your jewelry, thinking that you wouldn't notice, but fails miserably and you find that adorable.
"Hey hon do you know where that necklace I was wearing yesterday went?" You hum, peeking into his office.
Your boyfriend is hard at work, staring at some papers with concentration as he writes on them.
Sunday looked at you through the corner of his eye. His eyes looked a bit panicked before he started to concentrate on his papers again, but at this moment, he was just pretending.
"No, I don't...why my love?"
He answered with a simple reply. He thought that might work, right?
"Oh really?" You smile as you lean against the doorway. "I was going to wear it to that event we need to go to tonight."
Sunday stayed silent. And for some reason, his face started to redden a bit.
He knew that you weren't a fool. Why did he even think that you didn't know he stole your jewelry? Sunday sighed.
"Fine."
He opened his left drawer to carefully pick up your necklace and hold it out to you. Blushing as he looks away.
You snicker walking forward to lean down and kiss his forehead. "I know you like shiny things baby...but try to work on it?" Your voice soothes his embarrassment a bit.
Sunday looks at you, his face going even redder when you kissed his forehead.
"Mhm...I will...sorry"
He answered softly. He definitely didn't want to admit that he had an unhealthy obsession with shiny things, but he knew you already learned his secret anyways.
"Now...do you know where my rings are?" You glance into his eyes, yours have a hint of amusement while his are just plain panic.
"N-No..."
Sunday looked away. You knew he was lying again. He was bad at it, and he knew that you probably knew he was acting. You couldn't help but find that adorable.
"You must have placed them in our room...maybe on the nightstand!" He stammers a bit with his lie.
This wasn't like him and he hated it, the lying was killing him even if it couldn't be helped. He knew you weren't mad, you were amused, you loved his obsessions. But he still felt out of control with himself.
"Okkk..." You hum before kissing his nose. "So if I were to...check my nightstand in an hour...would they be back?" Your eyes narrow playfully as they gaze into his.
He blushed again. He really wasn't good at lying. Especially to you...his lovely girlfriend.
"Y-yes."
He replied. Sunday still found it quite difficult to look at you in the eyes while he was embarrassed like this. Why did he even steal them in the first place?
"Alright my little dove..." You smile softly, walking to the door before stopping and looking over your shoulder. "Oh and I wanted to tell you that I hung the suit you'll be wearing up on your door for when you get ready."
"T-Thank you, darling."
Sunday sighed of relief. He thought that you were going to keep asking him for jewelry back, reminding him of his little habit for the rest of the day. Sunday stood and followed to the door to grab his suit.
He quickly decided to give you a kiss on the cheek as a way to apologize for his silly behaviour.
"Let me know when you want me to help tie your tie. I'll be in our room." You smile before walking down the corridor out of his sight.
"Mhm, will do."
Sunday let out a heavy breath. Now that you're out of his sight, he has time to collect himself. He can't stop thinking about the feeling of your skin on his lips.
His thoughts always go crazy when you're around.
After he starts to prepare himself for the event, reading over his speech, making quick changes. He finally slips his suit on before glancing into his office mirror and remembering his tie.
He walks down the corridor where you had walked a bit previously into your shared room.
Glancing in he notices you sitting at your vanity, clearly doing your last preparations as well. His eyes soften as he watches you, his beautiful dove.
Finally he cleared his throat and spoke. "Hey, darling? Do you mind helping out a bit?" Holding the tie up he blushes embarrassed.
"Hmm?" You hum looking over your shoulder and glance at his undone tie. A warm laugh escapes your lips before you nod. "Cmere honey."
He walked over to you and wrapped his arms around your back. He looked at your neck, and decided to give a little peck to it. He then hid his face in your shoulders.
"I don't know why, but I feel quite embarrassed right now. I mean I should be able to do my own tie..." Sunday sighs softly. "Please Help me out, will you darling...?" He asked softly, his hot breath against your neck.
"Of course my love..." You hum, making quick work to turn around and start tying his tie.
His eyes catch a glint of light out of the corner of them. Glancing to your vanity he notices a pair of sparkly diamond earrings, ones he bought for you no doubt.
He caught himself looking at the earrings. But he was just so tempted to take them right now, but decided to try to restrain himself.
Sunday waited patiently for you to tie his tie. He found this kind of bonding with you wholesome...if only he wasn't thinking about those damned earrings.
He couldn't handle it anymore, so when you were distracted he used his arm length to his advantage and swiped the earrings, putting them in his pocket.
Sunday felt a sense of guilt, stealing your earrings, but he also felt satisfied. He had to act normal now, and hope you didn't notice he pocketed your earrings.
"All done!" You smile brightly as you turn to the mirror to show him. "God you look so handsome..."
His blush returns, even though he's used to your compliments...he can't ever get used to the notion that you're his. "Thank you, darling. You look absolutely stunning yourself."
He said, and gave you a smile. He wrapped his arm around you and kissed your hair lightly.
You both stand there for a few minutes, gazing at the mirror and at each other. But eventually the silence had to be broken.
"Ok! Go grab your speech and we can head out!" You smile patting his chest. He nods softly before you watch him walk to the door.
Sunday was obviously trying to rush out of the room, with a sense of panic in his mind that maybe you somehow noticed the earrings he just swiped.
"Oh and Sunday?"
His body tenses as he places a hand on the doorway. He gulps a bit before turning to you. "Y-Yes honey?"
"Earrings please." You snicker before holding your hand out. Eyes amused instead of angry.
"You noticed...?"
He asked, looking at your hand nervously. He slowly reached for his pocket and took out the earrings, reaching to hand them to you while looking away. He was as red as a flame spawn...
"It's hard not to when you bumped my waist with your hand while trying to reach for them..." You roll your eyes playfully.
He looks down at the ground, his wings drooping a bit. You gently cup his face and tilt his head upwards a bit.
"I could never get mad at my cute little dove..." You kiss his cheek. "Its kinda cute..."
"Heh...you mean that?"
He let out a sigh of relief. At least you didn't get mad at him for stealing your jewelry. He still had a hint of curiosity in his eyes though, wondering just how much jewelry you had.
Instead of asking he just gave you a small peck on the nose.
"My little Halovian..." You chuckle softly. "Such a jewelry snatcher." Walking to the front door, slipping your heels on. "Is your sister also like this?"
"Oh believe me...hah, she's worse."
"...remind me to never bring jewelry around her."
"Noted, my dear."
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🎀End🎀
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startaegi · 4 days ago
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ON THE RUN, cho hyunju. 【 CHAPTER 01 】
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⤑ pairing, cho hyunju x fem!reader
⤑ synopsis, where secret-not so secret lovers, hyunju and yn find each other in the unlikely of places.
⤑ series masterlist, on the run.
⤑ chapter two, coming soon!
⤑ notes, hi welcome to my first fic on here! i haven’t written anything in years but i couldn’t not write something for my girl bcos she deserves all the love. anyways enjoy, i hope it isn’t too bad!! 🫶🏻
⤑ taglist, @etta-huracan (if you would like to be added let me know)
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The day seemed to pass slowly. You spent most of it watching the hours tick by. Midnight at Hangang Bridge the robotic voice had said when calling the unknown number two days ago, a number from a card you'd received from a well dressed man in Sinchon station. Your face was still slightly bruised from that interaction, you had never been the best at playing ddakji. It was 30 minutes until 12 and you knew if you didn't leave now, you wouldn't make it on time. As risky as it was you weren't missing out on the opportunity to potentially win life changing money.
You unplugged your phone from the charger and switched off the broken lamp that did nothing to light your room. The apartment was small, all contained in one room minus the bathroom but it was the best you could get with what you have. You slipped on your shoes, eyes scanning the place one last time and eventually landing on the fridge. The note she had left was still there, her messy handwriting followed by little hearts in the corner, you could picture her folded over the kitchen island, a little smile on her face as she doodled her love onto the page. You missed her more than anything.
You quickly pulled yourself together closing the door behind you. A noise to the left startled you, keys almost falling from your hands. The sweet lady who owned the building with her son was hiding herself from view of the streets, the curtains slightly moving from the wind. "Hi, Ajumma" You called.
She turned with a smile on her face, backing away from the window. "Oh hello Y/N love" She replied. 
"Are you okay?" You questioned. It wasn't like her to be roaming around the halls so late in the night especially at her age.
"I don't want to worry you" She said hesitantly. You froze, mind instantly going to Hyunju. Did she finally come by? "Those same men where outside again, no good for nothing they are" She seethed.
Your heart sank. "Oh"
"I've been keeping an eye on them just in case but looks like they're gone now" She said, walking alongside you towards the exit. "You're leaving late? Everything okay?" She asked.
You nodded. "Going to visit a friend for a while, i'll be back in time for rent payments" You assured her, the last thing you needed was to be evicted.
She patted your shoulder affectionately. "Don't worry about that, you go have a nice time" She smiled. "You deserve it"
You paused for a second, words caught in your throat. "If-" You started. "If you see Hyunju can you tell her i'll be back soon? Tell her not to go anywhere, please" You practically begged. It would be just your luck, the moment you leave she would appear again.
Her eyes softened, a look of sympathy flashed across her face. She nodded, caressing your shoulder again. "Of course I will sweetheart. You still haven't heard from her?" She questioned.
You shook your head. It had been 30 days, an entire month since you last seen the one good thing in your life. You were left with a text message, one you'd read more times than you could count, one you could recite by heart if asked. She was leaving but she'd be back soon. At first you were angry, how dare she leave you after everything you'd been through together, with just a message through a screen. Then the days turned to weeks and your anger became worry. Where was she? Why wasn't she returning your calls or texts? You didn't want to expect the worst but in the country you lived as the people you both are, being alone wasn't a good idea. You lost sleep, your headaches not that you thought they could, somehow became worse. Your medication bottles became empty and your pockets just the same. You only hope she'll be back by the time you return and this time you'll have a bank balance enough to get you out of this place.
You finally left the building when another resident entered, distracting the older woman and making your exit, but of course not forgetting to say goodbye. The rain was heavy, bouncing against the cracked pavements. The silence is eerie. The broken street lamps flicker casting shadows on the wet pavements, your jacket doesn't have a hood leaving your hair to get drenched by the midnight drizzle. You scan the roads, no cars or people in sight. An overwhelming feeling of anxiety washes over you, a familiar sensation that mostly greets you in the night.
You don't have time to dwell on it as a beam of headlights approach you. A silver car pulls up beside you, the passenger side window rolls down. You're taken back at the person sat in the driver seat, face concealed by a black mask. They're also wearing a pink suit, their entire body hidden.
"Name?" The masked person questions.
"Y/N L/N" You reply, droplets of rain falling against your open lips.
They don't reply instead the back door clicks open. You quickly slide into the empty seat shielding yourself from the rain. You push the wet hair from your eyes only then noticing other people sat in the seats around you, seemingly asleep.
"Uh, excuse me?" You ask the masked driver. "What's-" You stop mid sentence, suddenly it becomes harder to breathe and a mysterious mist fogs your eyesight. You struggle to move your mouth, your entire body feels heavy. You feel the jolt of the car starting again and before you know it you're being sent into a slumber completely unaware of the hell that awaits you.
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a-aexotic · 2 years ago
Note
grumpy!rafe and sunshine!reader where he’s obsessed with her and is so clingy. whatever you want to write about that tbh
pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader
warnings: fluff!, rafe being mean (towards top LMFAO), mention of parties/drinking.
summary. when reader goes on a girls trip, rafe gets grumpy because his girl is gone because he's alone.
➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫
part 2 !!
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You and Rafe were complete opposites. You two were so contrasting, everyone had questions but neither of you cared. You two were just in your own bubble, not caring about anyone else's opinion.
Rafe didn't like many people but more importantly, he loved close to no one. For a while he guarded his heart so furiously, everyone had just grown used to the fact he was just an asshole. Not you, you broke down those walls the moment you walked into his life.
He immediately liked you. But, he grew to love you. And so did you with him. You changed him as well for the better as well; everyone knew that Rafe became a better person when he got with you.
You had him whipped and he wasn't afraid to admit to anyone.
Rafe was sitting outside by the pool, annoyance filling his body. You were out of town for the weekend and he honestly had nothing to do except sulk around until you eventually came back. He heard the door slide open and he looked over to see Topper.
He groaned out load and sighed. "What do you want?"
"Dude, chill out."
"I am, Topper, your aura is just pissing me off." Rafe argued and Topper let out a laugh, taking a seat in the chair next to him.
"Aura? Dude, are you joking? You've been hanging around Y/N way too much man. It's been a year now and you guys are still in the honeymoon phase."
Rafe's nostrils flared as he turned back to his 'best friend.' "Well it's always the honeymoon phase if you found the right one, Top. You wouldn't know that because there is no right one for you."
Topper rolled his eyes in annoyance but before he could reply, Rafe continued.
"And I don't hang out with Y/N too much. It's a reasonable amount of time."
"Bro, when was the last we actually hung out?"
"Like last weekend dude, chill out. You're acting like I don't ever see you. You're always at my house, man, it's getting exhausting." Rafe sighed before Topper registered what he was saying and nodded.
"Oh, yeah. You're right. That party was awesome last weekend bro, wow. I forgot about it." Topper chuckled to himself and Rafe made a disgusted face.
"Why are you here anyway, Top?" Rafe got up from the chair and started walking inside; he needed a beer after the conversation with Topper.
He followed close behind. "Uh, Sarah was getting me my stuff back."
Rafe couldn't help but laugh to himself as Topper glared at him. "Sorry, man. I thought you were off that train a while ago, you're still on her? It's been like-"
"Dude, you wouldn't understand!"
Rafe heard the door open and the footsteps leading into the kitchen. He immediately put down his beer once he saw your face, a big smile forming on his lips.
"Y/N!"
You walked over to him with a grin playing on your lips as you embraced him tightly. He put his arms around your waist. As you let go he leaned in for a quick kiss on the lips as Topper furrowed his eyebrows in disgust.
"Get a room."
Rafe glared at him. "You realize it's my house, right, Topper?"
You laughed at your boyfriend's sarcasm. "Sorry, Top, you still haven't found a girlfriend?"
"Yeah, man. It's really hard to find a decent girl on this stupid island." Topper ran his hand through his hair, obviously stressed out. You held in a laugh.
Rafe put a hand on Topper's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "You'll find one soon, dude, don't worry. Now, if you don't mind leaving, me and my girl have to catch up."
"Oh, come on, it's been like two days!"
Rafe gave him a stern look before Topper rolled his eyes and groaned, walking away. Rafe faced you and gave you a kiss on your forehead, taking your hand in his.
He led you outside and he took a seat where he was sitting before. He spread his legs so you stand in between them as he grabbed your waist, pulling you in.
"Top's right, Rafe, it has only been-"
"Shhh, let me enjoy this moment."
You found a tiny bit amusing how clingy Rafe was. You took it as a compliment though, you were glad you were one of the only people who have ever had Rafe so whipped for them; maybe even the only one.
He pulled your waist in more and put his head on your stomach, finding comfort in you and your body. He looked up at you with a smile. "Missed you so much babe. I was bored all weekend, I literally only hung out here. But Topper kept annoying me."
You laughed at that, "Topper's your best friend."
"No, you are. He's just the dude I hang around with."
You shook your head. "Stop being mean, I know you care about him a tiny bit."
He rolled his eyes, "like the smallest bit."
You smiled at your boyfriend, putting your hands in his hair as he relaxed. "I missed you, too. So much, I kept saving your snaps because I missed your cute face."
He grumbled at the wording and you couldn't help but laugh again. "I mean, hot face."
He grinned, "that's better."
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noellefan101 · 7 months ago
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Quiet Love
Characters: Xiao, Heizou, Cyno, Wanderer, Albedo x mute!reader
Summary: You're mute, and cant talk? not a problem for your partner, they can find other ways to communicate, and honestly wouldn't have it any other way.
Warnings: mute reader, kissing, most of them dont know sign language bc i said so and it makes this more interesting, idk man
Note: i feel like i accidentally made both the char and reader mute in some of them, I've tried to fix it though, so im sorry for that (and i also messed up some other shit im just missing brain cells n´ down bad) -love you
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Xiao
Whom talks with you in touches and small notes.
He had seen no problem in your absence of speaking, he likes the quiet nights that you shared with him. The sounds of nature taking over your ears, it was nice, just standing beside you and looking out to the views of Liyue. he reaches out to hold your hand, though still not accustomed to the feeling, he does it anyway. and as his hand lightly squeezes yours, he feels your own squeezing his back, as if saying 'I love you'. your quiet conversations are sweet and only for you two to know about.
He leaves notes scattered around, as you do too. ones with little messages of your schedule and plans. ones written with more love than any other person could comprehend. notes shared between you and him. notes saying 'i loved that dish, could we make it again' and a reply under, 'of course, i'll do anything for you'. it seems simple and dumb, but a nice way to talk to each other anyway.
Heizou
Who likes when you just listen to him, and let him do anything he kind of wants to since you can't talk back, but he also loves when you just draw your thoughts on paper.
He loves to talk, but mostly loves when he gets to talk to you since you always listen to him so closely. he loves when he can just drag you to to places, but of course he's nice about it (kind of) and ask you if you wanna go to that new ramen shop that opened in the outskirts of Inazuma City, which he kind of answers for you because of course you do! in which you smile at (smile at him or else...)
He likes your little drawings, and especially when its a little puzzle he has to solve so he can understand what you're saying and loves to guess wrong purpose so he can get a reaction out of you. and even has a special sketchbook, that he keeps on him at all times. he also sometimes goes trough it and just smiles at all your little drawings. remembering the time that you drew it, and all the cute little faces you made when he teased you for how bad it looked.
Cyno
Who helps you talk with small drawings in the sand and learned sign language so he could communicate with you properly.
He's often out in the desert, and from time to time takes you with him. which makes it easy to express yourself when all you need is a stick, sometimes his spear if he lets you, and sand which is already in front of you at all times. the little drawings that symbol your love, so many hearts all over the sand it would be hard to count how many times you drew them. he gave you his cape at night when you were extra cold? you drew a heart around his feet as a 'thank u, i love you', in which he cutely (your words) responded with, "i love you too" right after.
Whom learned sign language just because he felt like you were left out a little, but also learned the wrong one at first so you had to help him and learn him some signs as well. but the first thing you learned him was how to say "i love you", but didn't tell him what it meant so you could do it without him noticing just for a little while longer.
Wanderer
Who hates being touched, but makes you touch his shoulder when you need something and gifts you a book so you can write to him when needed
He, despite hating when people touch him, he cant think of many other ways you could get his attention, so he wants you to touch him when you need him. it doesn't matter if he had an extra bad day, its the best way to get his attention, so touch him all you want. it is you after all, the love of his life, he would let you do whatever you wanted to do, just tap his shoulder and give him a few signs or point at something, anything you want you'll get.
Others would say that he would be annoyed at you for pushing a book up to his face every hour or so, but he surprisingly he doesn't get annoyed at all and "tolerates" you pretty well. in fact he loves when you just stand there and write in your little book, he thinks its adorable when you glare at him as a sign to wait for you to finish.
Albedo
Who is normally very quiet but when he's with you he loves to talk, but of course, he loves the times when it's just you and him sitting together in silence
He could be seen as quite shy if you didnt know him well, but when around you he was the complete opposite, talking about everything he did that day, was currently doing, what plans he had ext. he loves when you just listen to him, but if you ever tried pointing at smt to ask like yk 'whats this?' he would be overjoyed and you wouldn't be able to make him shut up for hours about that one thing.
He looked at you when you had put your hand in front of his sketchbook, you looked at him sweetly before kissing his cheek, catching him by surprise. he put down his sketchbook and kissed you back on your forehead. it was just a quiet moment between you two and you wouldn't have it any other way.
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thx for reading i hope your day went/goes well, luv ya-Masterlist
You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts
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vamptizm · 10 days ago
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v. MISSION JEALOUSY — p.bueckers
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pairing: paige bueckers x clover amar (oc)
synopsis: in which paige bueckers and clover amar, two uconn wbb stars, have an ongoing mission of making each other jealous and outdoing the other.
warnings: angst. smut, cunnilingus (p receiving), scissoring, praise, bottom!paige i think?. kinda toxic!oc. no aftercare. basically porn with plot. do not read if this makes you uncomfortable.
word count: 8.2k (longest shit i’ve ever written)
note: u can definitely tell that i’m not used to writing smut at all and that my literacy disappears when i try… anyway lmk if u wanna be added to the nonexistent taglist. like, comment below and subscribe and share this video with ur friends!
series masterlist
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The faint hum of the refrigerator filled the quiet kitchen as Clover stood at the counter, her back to the doorway. She moved languidly, her curly hair loosely tied up, wearing an oversized hoodie that hung off one shoulder and a pair of shorts. A bowl of cereal sat in front of her, spoon in hand, as she focused on eating, ignoring the world around her.
Paige shuffled into the room moments later, her blonde hair a disheveled mess, eyes still half-closed from sleep. She was wearing a loose white T-shirt and grey sweatpants, her bare feet making soft thuds against the tiled floor. She yawned as she made her way to the bathroom, rubbing at her face groggily.
When she returned, her attention fell immediately on Clover, who hadn't so much as turned her head in acknowledgment. Paige froze for a moment, her hand still on the bathroom door handle. ‘Really? Back to this already?’
The frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface since the night before bubbled up again. She thought the tension between them had eased after the game, but clearly, Clover wasn't on the same page.
Paige tried to mask her irritation, playing it cool as she strolled to the kitchen counter. Her tone was casual as she muttered, "Morning."
To her surprise, Clover responded immediately. "Morning," she said, her voice calm and unbothered, her focus still on her cereal.
Paige blinked, momentarily thrown off. There was no sarcasm, no venom—just a steady, neutral reply. It only confused her more.
But then, an image from the night before popped into Paige's head: the blonde waitress standing in the bleachers, holding up that ridiculous sign. The girl's smug face flashed vividly in her mind, reigniting the irritation she'd been trying to push down.
"Your girl looked real proud of herself at the game last night," Paige said, her voice laced with a hint of pettiness. She leaned against the counter, folding her arms. "You two dating or something?"
Clover paused mid-bite, her spoon poised in front of her lips. Slowly, she looked up, finally meeting Paige's gaze. Her expression was unreadable as she chewed and swallowed her cereal before replying, her voice flat.
"Why don't you focus on your game instead of my love life? Maybe then we wouldn't have almost lost."
The words hit Paige like a slap. Her mouth opened slightly in disbelief before she quickly snapped it shut. "Excuse me?" she retorted, straightening up. "If I remember right, you missed that wide-open three in the first quarter."
Clover smirked faintly, clearly unimpressed by Paige's attempt to shift the blame. "And yet we still won, didn't we? You're welcome, by the way," she shot back, her voice light and almost teasing.
Paige bristled. "Oh, don't act like you carried us. You—"
"Paige," Clover interrupted, her tone sharper now, though her expression remained maddeningly calm. "You played like a shitty teammate yesterday. I know that, the team and coach know it, and so do you, so let's stop the theatrics, 'kay?"
Paige clenched her jaw, struggling to come up with a rebuttal that wouldn't immediately backfire. She knew Clover was right, of course she was. The brunette, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease, casually taking another spoonful of cereal.
But then Paige decided to double down, the memory of that waitress gnawing at her. "Or maybe you were too focused on your lover and I didn't trust you with the ball."
"Oh, my lover?" Clover mocked with a scoff, tilting her head slightly. "Why? Jealous?"
Paige scoffed, her cheeks burning. "Hardly. Just curious, that's all."
"Mhm," Clover hummed, leaning her hip against the counter as she turned fully toward Paige. Her smile widened slightly, teasing and sharp. "You sure? 'Cause you've been awfully focused on who's in my bed lately."
Paige stiffened, the words hitting harder than she wanted to admit. "I'm not—"
"Oh, you're not?" Clover interrupted smoothly, her eyes twinkling with mock sympathy. She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping an octave. "Then why do you sound so bothered, Paige? Why do you care so much?"
"I don't care," Paige shook her head lightly, her voice trying to imitate nonchalance.
"Could've fooled me," Clover replied with a soft laugh, her calm demeanor only fueling Paige's internal frustration.
She sighed dramatically, setting her spoon down with a clink. She turned fully to face Paige now, hands resting on the counter behind her, grinning and shaking her head as if to taunt the blonde. "You're so obsessed with me, aren't you?"
Paige scoffed with furrowed brows, her face almost flushing. "What? No, what—"
Before she could finish, Clover closed the distance between them in one swift movement, her hands landing firmly on Paige's hips as she backed her into the counter. Paige's breath hitched, her words dying in her throat.
Clover's gaze was steady, unapologetically taking her time as her eyes roamed over Paige, from her messy blonde hair to her hardened nipples under the thin shirt and sweatpants hanging low on her hips. The scrutiny was deliberate, almost predatory, and Paige found herself frozen under its weight.
"You've got a lot of opinions on who I fuck and don't, for someone who isn't obsessed with me." Clover said, her voice low and smooth, a stark contrast to the usual lightness it carried.
Paige swallowed hard, her heart thudding in her chest. She wanted to say something—anything—but the words wouldn't come.
Clover's eyes lingered for a moment longer before she stepped back, releasing Paige as abruptly as she had grabbed her. "Eat something," she said over her shoulder as she returned to her cereal. "Maybe it'll help with whatever's got you so worked up."
Paige stood there, rooted to the spot, her hands gripping the edge of the counter. Her mind raced, trying to process what had just happened, but all she could focus on was the lingering heat of Clover's touch and the smug smirk that played on her lips as she turned away.
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The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV, an episode of Grey's Anatomy playing in the background as Paige reclined on the couch. She was in her usual position—legs spread lazily, an arm slung over the backrest. Her attention wasn't entirely on the show, though. It never was when Clover was around. 
Paige glanced up briefly as the sound of light footsteps approached, only for her gaze to lock on Clover's figure. The smaller girl sauntered into the space with her usual effortless confidence, her short denim skirt swaying slightly with each step. A cropped jersey hugged her frame, exposing just enough of her toned midriff and shoulder as it hung off to catch Paige's undivided attention.
Clover didn't acknowledge her at first. Instead, she made a beeline for the coffee table, where a set of keys rested. Paige's jaw tensed as Clover stepped directly in front of her, purposely blocking her view of the TV. 
"Seriously?" Paige muttered, her tone low but not nearly annoyed enough to match her words. 
Clover didn't respond. She leaned over just enough to grab her keys, giving Paige an unimpeded view of her outfit—gold necklaces catching the light, a delicate waist chain glinting against her skin. Paige's eyes traveled down Clover's figure shamelessly, lingering on her exposed legs before snapping back up. She swallowed hard, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. 
For a second, Paige considered telling her to move, the words forming instinctively in her throat. But that would mean Clover might actually leave, and she wasn't ready for that just yet. 
Clover straightened, her glossy lips curved into the faintest grin as she turned her head slightly, catching Paige's eyes for just a moment. "Problem?" she asked innocently, though her tone betrayed that she knew exactly what she was doing. 
Paige's mouth opened, but no words came out. She could feel heat creeping up the back of her neck, her usual composure faltering under Clover's playful gaze. 
Satisfied, Clover didn't wait for a response. She tossed her keys in the air once before catching them and pivoted on her heel, heading for the door. The sound of her shoes echoed in the room, and Paige let her eyes wander one last time as Clover's hips swayed with every step. 
The door shut softly behind her, and the silence that followed was deafening. Paige released a long, frustrated sigh, running a hand through her hair. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her head dipping as if she could somehow shake off the tension. 
And yet, despite her irritation, she couldn't stop the small, almost involuntary smile that tugged at the corner of her lips. 
Paige couldn't stop thinking about her. No matter what she did—watching TV, scrolling mindlessly through her phone, even lying back and closing her eyes—Clover's image refused to leave her mind. It was maddening, like waking from a dream so vivid, so achingly perfect, that you'd do anything to slip back into it. 
Her thoughts were relentless, circling back to the girl over and over again. The way Clover looked when she was mad, her jaw set, eyes blazing with defiance. The way her hands had gripped Paige's collar the night prior, pulling her close enough to feel the warmth of her breath. Paige could still hear her voice, sharp and taunting, her words always laced with an angry edge that sent a shiver down her spine. 
And this morning? That was the worst of it. Clover had practically burned herself into Paige's memory. The teasing sway of her hips, the flash of her waist chain catching the light, the smug little smirk she threw over her shoulder as if she knew exactly what she was doing to Paige. 
But the moment that haunted Paige the most, the one she couldn't shake no matter how hard she tried, was in the kitchen. Clover's hands on her hips, her grip firm, her body pressing close—too close—until Paige was caged against the counter. Her eyes had roamed Paige's body unapologetically, hunger blazing in them like an open flame. Paige had felt her breath hitch then, her pulse pounding in her ears, and the memory alone was enough to make her throat go dry now. 
It was all too much. The twisting heat in her stomach, the ache that gnawed at her with each passing second, was impossible to ignore. She clenched her fists, trying to steady her breathing, but the tension coiled tighter instead of easing. 
Finally, Paige gave in. With a sharp exhale, she reached for the remote and switched off the TV. The sudden quiet in the living room only seemed to amplify the storm raging in her mind. She stood abruptly, her legs moving on autopilot as she strode to her room. 
The door shut with a soft click behind her, but the sound felt deafening in the empty apartment. None of her roommates were home—not Clover, at least. Paige checked the time, knowing she had hours before anyone returned. 
But even as she stood in the middle of her room, hands braced on her hips, she couldn't escape the fire Clover had lit within her. It burned hot, consuming, leaving Paige feeling restless and craving something she knew she shouldn't want. Something she couldn't stop wanting. 
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That's how Paige ended up laying on her bed, music playing in the background and her hand slid down the waistband of her sweatpants and boxers. It was to no surprise to the blonde, that she had already been soaked before she could even do anything. Her fingers rubbed slow circles, almost teasing herself with the chosen tempo. Images of Clover flashed her mind, her name escaping the blonde's lips like a mantra. It's not as if she didn't try to think of something, or someone else. She really did, but Clover's face, voice and body stuck. The sounds she'd made the last time Paige got to see her like that. Lips swollen, collarbones glistening and eyes dazed and cloudy. All of it drove her insane, her heart beating faster.
Her movements picked up in pace, soft and quiet whimpers and moans turning louder the more her pleasure built up. Biting her bottom lip did near to nothing to help her hold the noises back.
The music that continued to play in the background was loud enough to drown out the sound of the front door opening and clicking shut again, but it wasn't loud enough to drown out the sinful sounds seeping through from behind Paige's door. Clover only stood there, her weight leaned against the wall next to the girl's room door and her arms crossed. A smirk played on her lips, tongue poking against the inside of her cheek.
The debate that unfolded in her head was a tough one. Should she just go to her own room and pretend as if she hadn't heard anything, or should she open that door and give the Paige exactly what she seemed to need.
"Fuck, Clo." Paige's whiny voice rang through her ears, and the way her nickname sounded coming from her was enough to make the brunette crack.
Her hand reached out for the handle, the metal cold under her skin as she pushed it down, the door opening with a soft click. One that Paige seemed to miss, because when Clover slowly and quietly stepped in, her eyes were still closed, hand still down her pants and soft whimpers still coming out of her.
Paige was still unaware of the company. She was too caught up in the moment, her hand stilling abruptly only when the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat cut through the quiet room. Her head snapped toward the doorway, wide eyes meeting Clover's figure leaning casually against the frame.
Arms crossed over her chest, Clover wore an expression of pure amusement, a smirk tugging at her lips. The heat was rising to her neck and face, but she'd rarely been the type to visibly flush pink. Her dark eyes glimmered with something Paige couldn't quite decipher—teasing, yes, but there was something else, something that made the blonde's stomach flip in a way she wasn't prepared for.
Paige's hand darted out from under the waistband of her pants as if she'd been burned, her cheeks flushing a deep red. "Fuck—I didn't think anyone would be home yet," she stammered, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. She refused to meet Clover's gaze, as though her embarrassment might subside if she avoided the intensity of the brunette's attention.
Clover only shrugged, entirely unfazed. "One of my classes got canceled," she explained nonchalantly, pushing herself off the doorframe and taking a slow step into the room. "Lucky me, huh?"
The teasing lilt in her voice made Paige's heart race even faster, and the silence that followed was deafening. Clover let it stretch just long enough to make Paige squirm, her gaze unrelenting as it roamed over the blonde with unapologetic curiosity.
And then Clover spoke again, her tone shifting—low, sultry, and taunting. "Do you need help with that?"
Paige froze, her breath hitching as the words registered. Her thoughts scrambled, a million excuses and denials flashing through her mind, but none of them stuck. Instead, her body betrayed her, and before she could stop herself, she nodded. Quick, almost desperate, the motion came faster than she intended.
Clover's smirk widened, satisfaction dripping from the curve of her lips as she closed the distance between them. The door clicked softly shut behind her, the sound sending a shiver down Paige's spine.
Paige's pulse thrummed wildly as Clover reached the bed, the brunette's movements deliberate and unhurried. Paige's breath caught when Clover swung a leg over her, settling into her lap with effortless confidence.
Paige's back pressed deeper into the mattress as Clover leaned in, their faces just inches apart. Clover's fingers trailed along Paige's arm, featherlight, teasing, and when Paige finally met her gaze, she found herself drowning in the intensity of those dark, hungry eyes.
"You should've locked the door," Clover murmured, her voice barely above a whisper but no less commanding. "Not that I'm complaining."
Paige swallowed hard, her breath shallow and uneven. She wasn't sure if it was the weight of Clover on her lap or the brunette's piercing gaze that had her feeling so unmoored. Or maybe, it was her skirt riding up just enough to give the blonde a small peek of the color of her panties. Either way, the heat blooming beneath her skin was undeniable.
"I didn't think anyone would walk in," Paige muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Clover's smirk didn't falter; if anything, it deepened. "Or maybe that's exactly what you wanted." Her fingers brushed against Paige's shoulder now, a featherlight touch that sent shivers racing down her spine.
Paige shifted beneath her, unsure if she was trying to pull away or lean into the touch. Clover didn't move, her composure steady and commanding, like she was in complete control of the situation—and maybe she was.
"You're so quiet now," Clover mused, her voice soft but teasing. "Not so bold when you're not in charge, huh?"
Paige's cheeks flushed deeper, a color Clover clearly noticed because she let out a quiet chuckle—low and knowing. "Relax," she murmured, leaning in just enough for Paige to feel the brush of her breath against her ear. " 'M not gonna bite... unless you want me to."
The words sent a jolt through Paige, and she turned her head, finally meeting Clover's eyes again. There was something playful in the brunette's expression, but beneath it, an intensity Paige couldn't ignore.
"Clover," Paige started, but her voice cracked, betraying her attempt at calmness.
"Hmm?" Clover tilted her head, feigning innocence.
Paige's hands fidgeted at her sides, clenching and unclenching as if trying to anchor herself. "I don't... I don't think this is a good idea," she managed to say, though the words came out uneven.
Clover leaned back slightly, her expression unreadable for a moment. "And why's that?" she asked, her tone softer now, less teasing but no less curious. Attentive.
Paige opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Her thoughts were too tangled—caught somewhere between the electrifying tension of the moment and the gnawing doubt in the back of her mind. She couldn't look away, though, not when Clover was this close, her dark eyes searching Paige's face with such quiet confidence.
“Thought so.”
After a long pause, Clover spoke again, her voice gentle. "If you want me to stop, just say the words."
The sincerity in her tone startled Paige. For all her teasing and playful bravado, Clover wasn't pushing—she was offering a way out. Paige's chest tightened, and for a fleeting moment, she thought about taking it. But instead, she shook her head, the movement small and hesitant but clear.
Clover's smirk returned, softer this time, and she leaned back in closer. "Good," she whispered, her hands settling lightly on Paige's shoulders. " 'Cause I wasn't ready to leave anyway."
She straightened, her dark eyes never leaving Paige’s flushed face as her hands slowly slid down the blonde’s arms. Her fingers moved with purpose, tracing the soft curve of muscle and bone, lingering just long enough to leave a faint, electric trail in their wake. When she reached the hem of Paige’s shirt, she paused, her fingers toying with the fabric as though testing the weight of the moment.
Her gaze flicked up, brown eyes locking onto blue. There was no rush, no demand—just a silent question, one that Clover didn’t need to voice. Paige swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling unevenly, before giving a small, almost imperceptible nod. That was all Clover needed.
In one fluid motion, Clover pushed the shirt up, the fabric gathering as it rose along Paige’s torso. Paige arched her back slightly, her shoulders lifting from the mattress to help, and the shirt slipped off with ease, leaving her pale torso and chest bare under Clover’s attentive gaze.
For a moment, Clover stilled, taking her time as her eyes swept over Paige’s form. Every mole, every curve, every shadow and line of her body seemed to command her attention. It wasn’t just a glance—it was as though she was memorizing her, committing her to the deepest recesses of her mind.
The words that rose in Clover’s throat felt too raw, too close to the parts of herself she usually kept hidden. She swallowed them down, opting instead for the kind of playful charm she always fell back on.
“You’re so fucking hot.” Clover’s lips curved into a grin, her tongue darting out to swipe along the edge of her teeth as she spoke. The compliment was delivered casually, almost cheekily, but the fire in her gaze betrayed the depth of her admiration.
Her hands moved again, this time trailing upward. Her palms came to rest softly on Paige’s chest, her touch firm but not overbearing. She gave a gentle squeeze, her thumbs brushing lightly against smooth skin. Paige’s breath hitched audibly, and her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth as she fought to contain the small sounds threatening to escape her.
Clover leaned in closer, her knees shifting against the mattress to position herself more comfortably. She was hovering now, her body poised above Paige’s, one hand planted beside the blonde’s head for balance. The other hand slid to her waist, her grip light but grounding.
Her lips found Paige’s shoulder first, the kiss soft but deliberate, her breath warm against her skin. Slowly, Clover began her descent, her mouth tracing a line down Paige’s collarbone, lingering in places just long enough to leave a faint sting of warmth in her wake. Paige’s breathing grew shallow, uneven, and Clover could feel the tremor beneath her lips as they moved lower.
Each kiss was unhurried, as though Clover was savoring every inch of Paige’s skin. Her own breathing grew heavier as she moved, the tension between them palpable in the charged silence of the room. Every soft sound Paige made—every faint sigh, every quiet intake of breath—spurred Clover on, her lips trailing lower, igniting a fire that neither of them seemed inclined to extinguish.
Clover's lips paused just above Paige's ribs, her
breath brushing against the sensitive skin. She glanced up, her dark eyes catching the blonde's, searching for any hint of hesitation. Paige's flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips were all the confirmation Clover needed. 
With calculated slowness, Clover shifted her weight, her free hand sliding down Paige's side. Her fingertips danced along the curve of her waist before finding her hip, her grip tightening just enough to ground them both. She pressed a lingering kiss just below Paige's ribcage, her lips curving into a faint smirk as she heard the faint, shaky exhale it elicited. 
"You're holding your breath," Clover teased, her voice low and teasing as she lifted her head slightly, her lips brushing against Paige's skin as she spoke. "Relax for me, Blondie." 
Paige's cheeks darkened further, her hands nervously fidgeting with the blanket beneath her. "Easy for you to say," she muttered, her voice soft but laced with a nervous laugh. "You're not the one being—" 
"Admired?" Clover finished for her, arching a brow. She grinned, her lips trailing back upward until they hovered near Paige's ear. "Trust me, you've got nothing to be nervous about." 
The words were meant to be reassuring, but they carried a weight that made Paige's breath catch for the umpteenth time. Clover's tone was light, but her gaze was anything but—it was heavy, intense, and filled with an undeniable hunger. 
Clover straightened slightly, her hand moving from Paige's waist to her jaw, gently tilting her face upward. "Tell me if you want me to stop," she murmured, her thumb brushing over the curve of Paige's cheek. 
Paige shook her head quickly, her blonde hair splaying across the pillow as her voice came out in a quiet, trembling whisper. "Don't stop." 
Clover's grin softened into something almost tender as she leaned down, their faces mere inches apart. "I won’t," she reassured, her breath warm against Paige's lips. 
This time, when Clover kissed her, it wasn't teasing or lighthearted—it was slow, deep, and deliberate. The world seemed to melt away as their lips moved together, the kiss carrying all the heat and intensity that had been building between them. Paige's hands instinctively moved to Clover's back, her fingers gripping the fabric of her shirt as though she needed something to anchor herself. 
Clover's hand slid from Paige's jaw to her neck, her touch firm but gentle as she deepened the kiss. Time seemed to blur, each second stretching into eternity as they lost themselves in each other. The only sounds were the faint rustle of the bedspread, their uneven breathing, and the quiet hum of tension that filled the room. 
When they finally pulled apart, Clover rested her forehead against Paige's, her dark eyes searching the blue ones beneath her. Neither of them spoke for a moment, their breaths mingling as they tried to steady themselves. 
Clover's lips continued their path, slow and intentional, leaving another warm, tingling trail as they ventured lower. She savored the way Paige shivered under her touch, her chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. Clover's fingers curled just beneath the waistband of Paige's sweatpants.
She paused, her lips hovering just above Paige's navel as her knuckles brushed up and down the smooth, pale skin at her waist. What had her captivated was the way Paige's body responded to her every move—the slight arch of her back, the soft gasp when Clover's knuckles ghosted over her skin.
She tugged slightly, just enough to tease, her touch grazing lower. Paige's breathing was uneven as Clover pressed another kiss to her hipbone, leaving her teetering on the edge of anticipation. She felt like her body was being lit on fire, almost as if somebody had entirely doused her in gasoline, Clover's touch and lips against her skin being the lit match igniting the fire.
"Been wanting to eat this pussy for a while," she murmured, and with that, she eased the fabric down, taking her time, savoring every inch of Paige's bare skin as it was revealed, who was practically almost kicking her pants and boxers off.
There she was, in all of her glory for the brunette to admire and take in. The world outside the room disappeared entirely, leaving only the quiet rustle of fabric and the sound of the blonde's uneven breaths filling the air.
For once, Clover didn't waste any more time, her body shuffling down enough to where she was facing the girl's dripping cunt. Her hands gripped Paige's left thigh, swiftly swinging it over her shoulder for better access. She had to take a deep, subtle breath— filling her lungs with desperately needed oxygen as she took in the sight.
Clover’s lips followed suit, pressing soft, deliberate kisses to the inside of one thigh, and then the other. Her movements were unhurried, almost reverent, as though she had all the time in the world and no intention of rushing something so intimate. Each kiss was a silent promise, a wordless expression of affection and desire, and it made Paige’s head spin like it never had before.
It wasn’t just the touch—it was the care, the attention, the way Clover’s every action seemed to whisper that Paige was the only thing that mattered in that moment.
And for Paige, that feeling was almost overwhelming. It was foreign, like a language she had never bothered to learn.
"Wanna taste you," The brunette whispered, her voice thick with desire as she looked up at the blonde.  "It's only fair you let me return the favour." She wanted to make Paige feel good, to make her scream her name. Wanted to give her pleasure like she had never experienced before.
Paige could feel herself getting lost in Clover's chocolate brown irises, in real time speed, hyper aware of everything about the girl. Her eyes, her warm breath against where Paige needed her most, her somewhat rough and veiny hands from playing so much basketball stroking her skin. It all felt heavenly and she was sure that she never wanted this to end as she only nodded her head in response, not trusting her own voice.
That was all it took for Clover to delve in, her tongue flatly licking a long stripe up her folds. The small, airy moan that followed was like music to her ears, only encouraging her to keep going. Clover couldn't help but press a few open mouthed kisses before going back to working her tongue against Paige. The taste was heavenly— near to intoxicating.
It wasn't the first time that Paige had somebody go down on her, not even the fifth or tenth, but for some reason, this time it felt completely different from all the other times. As if Clover was doing it for her own pleasure, perhaps enjoying it more than the blonde herself.
Paige's hand landed on the back of the girl's head, subconsciously pushing her face further down, and luckily Clover wanted nothing more than to be impossibly close to her core.
She felt like she was being burned alive. She propped herself up on her elbows, determined to look down at Clover while the girl continued to messily lick and suckle
"Fuck, Ma. Doing so good." Paige couldn't stop herself from praising the brunette's efforts, a satisfied grin on her lips while her hand reached back down to brush a stray strand of her hair back.
Clover grinned at the praise, her tongue working more urgently, her hands gripping Paige's hips, holding her close. She could feel her arousal growing, body responding to Clover's touch. She increased the pressure of her tongue, repeatedly flicking it against the girl's clit, her hand snaking up to cup Paige's tits, thumb teasing her hardened nipple.
Her soft moans filled the room, and Clover could feel her body trembling beneath her. She continued her ministrations, determined to make this the best experience, sloppily shaking her head from side to side like a starved man, lapping up everything Paige was offering. Gluttony adorned Clover as she wanted to consume her entirely. "You sound so fucking pretty. Anyone ever tell you that?" She pulled away briefly to speak.
Despite all of it— the sin, the unholy sounds and actions, Paige could still feel her face flush pink, somehow growing shy at the unexpected praise. Her heart thudded in her chest as she shook her head, her grip tight on the now messed up bedsheets.
Clover halted, raising a brow in surprise. How could no one have told her that before, when she sounded as soft and angelic as an angel? The complete opposite of her public image. "Shame. We both know that no one can make you feel like I do. They're too selfish to touch you like I do." Clover mumbled against her sopping cunt, causing another whine to escape her at the words.
Paige continued to watch Clover, the sight of the girl in between her legs, feverishly licking and sucking on her cunt was almost as pleasurable as the feeling itself. By this point, Paige was a whiny and whimpery mess, Clover's name leaving her lips like a memorized prayer, her hands uncontrollably pushing the brunette’s head further down.
Paige's other leg had hooked itself over her shoulder, the other hand placing itself over the brunette's hand groping her tits, encouraging her to be as rough as she liked while the girl continued to lap up at her. "Clo, fuck, Baby."
Clover hummed against Paige at the use of her nickname, sending vibrations up her core. Her fingers digging into her hips as she felt her body tense. She loved the taste of her, the sound of her voice, the way her body responded to her touch. Clover increased the pressure and speed of her tongue, her fingers pinching Paige’s nipple harder, grip tightening. She could basically feel Paige's heart pounding, breath coming out in short gasps. Clover wanted to bring her to the edge and then push her over
"That's it, baby," she murmured against Paige’s core, her voice husky with desire. "Cum for me. Make a mess on my face, yeah?" She could feel it, the tension in Paige's body, the way her muscles clenched and released.
There was no denying that Paige was dangerously close, the longer and hungrier Clover continued to eat her out, the tighter the knot inside her tummy got. Clover's words of encouragement and praise only fuelled Paige's pleasure, dragging her closer and closer to the edge. By this point, she had given up on propping herself up, sacrificing the sight of the brunette to stare up at the ceiling. “I’m so close—“
It wasn't long before she felt her climax creeping up on her, until it suddenly hit her like a truck, allowing her to fall and crumble apart against Clover's tongue. The girl's name left Paige's lips over and over, chanting it like a mantra, a chain and series of cuss words escaping her as she came down from her orgasm.
Clover could feel Paige's body tremble as she came, sweet release flooding her mouth and soaking the bottom half of her face. She swallowed, her gaze still focused on the blonde's cunt, a smile spreading across her face.
She pulled back, a string of saliva mixed with arousal connected to her lips and the girl's core before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her body aching with need as she pushed Paige's legs off her shoulders. She sat up, gazing down at the blonde, her chest heaving, breath coming out in short pants.
Clover leaned back, her weight shifting off Paige for a moment as her hands slid to the hem of her own shirt. The golden glow of the setting sun streamed through the window, casting a soft light over her, highlighting every curve and shadow of her form. As she moved, the long gold necklaces around her neck swayed gently, catching the light and adding an almost hypnotic rhythm to her movements. 
She paused, glancing down at Paige with a small, teasing smile. 
Paige was still catching her breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her flushed face was framed by her tousled blonde hair, and her blue eyes remained fixed on Clover, wide and slightly dazed. She looked almost enchanted, like she couldn't believe this was happening, like she didn't want to miss a single second of what came next. 
Clover slowly lifted her shirt, further revealing not just the toned lines of her stomach but the tattoos that adorned her skin. Fine lines drawing a cybersigilistic design that rested just beneath her breasts and along her ribs, curving slightly with her movement. Another intricate design spanned her womb, a soft but striking contrast against her smooth skin. The details were mesmerizing, yet understated. 
The fabric peeled away like the layers of a gift being unwrapped, and Paige's gaze followed the movement, her lips parting as her breath hitched again. 
"Enjoying the view?" Clover teased softly, her voice low and playful as she tugged the shirt over her head and tossed it carelessly to the side. 
Paige swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of pink as she nodded wordlessly. Her eyes flickered between Clover's face, her jewelry, and her newly exposed skin, lingering on the delicate gold waist chain that rested against her hips and the black-lace bra. It seemed to frame her tattoos, drawing attention to the soft lines and curves of her body. 
Clover's smirk softened into something more tender as she reached for the button of her skirt, her fingers working at the closure with practiced ease. She kept her movements slow, calculated, letting Paige's gaze linger. There was something deeply satisfying about the way Paige looked at her, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered in that moment. 
"Breathe, Blondie," Clover said with a small laugh, her tone light but warm. 
Paige let out a shaky laugh of her own, exhaling deeply as she ran a hand through her messy hair. "I... I'm breathing," she murmured, though her voice was barely above a whisper. 
Clover's smile grew, a mix of confidence and affection flashing in her dark eyes. "Good job," she praised simply, stepping out of her skirt with the same slow grace. When she straightened up again, her hands on her hips, the sunlight glinted off her necklace and waist chain, her tattoos shifting slightly with ever movement. She took a step closer to the bed, watching as Paige's gaze traveled upward to meet hers. 
"You're beautiful," Paige said suddenly, the words spilling out unfiltered, her voice tinged with awe. 
The comment caught Clover off guard, and for a brief second, the teasing façade cracked, replaced by something raw and genuine. Her lips curved into a softer smile, and she reached out to brush a strand of hair from Paige's face. 
"Thank you," Clover whispered, her voice gentle and sincere. 
For a moment, they just stayed like that, the air between them heavy with a charged silence that felt more intimate than any words or actions. Then Clover climbed back onto the bed, her motions slow and purposeful, as if savoring the closeness they were about to share again.
Clover moved to get on her knees, peeling her panties off and unhooking her bra, before throwing both to the floor, leaving her just as bare and exposed as Paige. She grabbed a pillow next to the girl's head, patting her hips for Paige to lift them so that she could place the pillow under her.
Clover's arm gently lifted Paige's left leg up, eyes hungrily drinking in the sight of the girl's still sopping cunt before hooking that leg over her chest and on her shoulder. Before doing anything else, Clover stroked and caressed Paige's thigh to relax the girl and her muscles.
"Don't know if I can take it. Too sensitive." Paige mumbled quietly.
The brunette only grinned, her eyes cloudy and her voice low. "You can and you will."
It didn't take long for Clover to throw one leg over Paige’s other thigh and lower herself on the blonde under her, their cores finally meeting as electricity sparked all throughout their bodies, a small and satisfied moan leaving the blonde's lips.
"Damn, Baby. You're still soaked." Clover chuckled as she grinded against the girl's cunt, playfully teasing in hopes of helping her relax further and let loose. She didn't want the atmosphere to be serious.
Paige's body arched up into Clover's, her hands gripping her hips. She wanted more, wanted them to be impossibly close. To melt into one.
The brunette let her head fall back, eyes fluttering shut as she began to grind against Paige, the sensation and pleasure sending shivers down her spine. She let out a soft, needy moan, her body responding to Paige's touch, whose hands were still firmly clasping her hips. "I'm supposed to be doing the work."
"Can't have that, Mama." Paige mumbled breathlessly, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth as she guided Clover's hips up and down.
All that could be heard next, was the sound of wet squelching and soft, needy moans and whimpers from both Clover and Paige. The room felt hot and suffocating, the smell of sex filling the air as both of them panting for more oxygen.
"Words, Paige. I need words." Clover demanded firmly, her nails digging into the soft flesh of the blonde's thigh against her chest. "Tell me how I'm making you feel." She continued to rock her hips against Paige's, trying to hold back her own moans as much as possible, but that proved to almost be pointless.
Paige looked absolutely stunning beneath her—straight out of an erotic painting—fucked out face, parted lips and rosy cheeks. Clover couldn't stop herself from placing soft kisses against her thigh, her hand reaching down to intertwine her fingers with Paige's, the other gripping the leg closer to her chest.
Paige let out a strangled moan, her blue eyes meeting Clover's brown, body trembling with need and her heart still thudding in her chest. "You feel so fucking good. Making me feel good." she panted, her voice thick with lust. "So soft ‘nd wet. Can't get enough of you, Ma."
Her hips once again bucked against the brunette's, fingers tightening around Clover’s as they continued to hold hand "Fuck, Clover, please." She whispered, her voice barely a whisper. She could feel her muscles tightening, losing herself in the sanctuary of pleasure, her heart pounding and skin burning
Paige's breath hitched again, her hands instinctively gripping Clover's waist as if grounding herself, her fingertips brushing against the delicate chain wrapped around Clover's hips. The sensation of the cool metal against her heated skin sent another wave of shivers through her body, and she closed her eyes, trying to steady herself. 
"I... I need..." Paige stammered softly, her voice trembling under Clover's knowing gaze. She couldn't quite get the words out, her usual confidence completely shattered, leaving her bare and vulnerable beneath the brunette's smoldering intensity. 
Clover tilted her head, her dark brown eyes locking onto Paige's as her fingers trailed along the side of her neck, sending goosebumps down her spine. "You need what, Baby?" she asked, her voice a whisper of mischief and affection. Her hand traced a slow, deliberate path from Paige's neck to her collarbone, pausing to toy with a loose strand of golden hair before moving lower. 
Paige swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath Clover's steady weight. "I need you," she finally admitted, her voice whiny and barely above a whisper but raw with sincerity. Her hands slid up Clover's back, brushing against the intricate ink curling around her ribs, the warmth of her touch drawing an audible sigh from Clover's lips. “Need to cum so bad.”
Clover's smirk softened into something gentler, more intimate. "Good girl," she murmured, her tone a blend of praise and satisfaction. She dipped her head slightly, her lips brushing against the corner of Paige's mouth, still teasing, still withholding just enough to leave the blonde aching for more. 
Their bodies moved together again, Clover's necklace and waist chain catching the soft light and reflecting delicate patterns onto Paige's flushed skin while dangling over her. Clover's lips hovered just a breath away from Paige's, and the tension between them reached its breaking point. With one last whisper, Clover's voice turned molten. "Whenever you're ready." 
Clover's words hung in the air, each one a soft promise that vibrated through Paige's chest, making her heart race all over again. She could feel the weight of Clover's presence pressing down on her, not just physically but emotionally, as if Clover were holding a piece of her in the palm of her hand.
Paige exhaled slowly, her body still trembling from the tension that Clover had so expertly drawn out of her. There was an intimacy to the moment that felt different from anything she'd known before, a deep connection that swirled in the space between them, weaving tighter with every shared breath. She wanted to say something, to reassure Clover or maybe to find the words to express the overwhelming pull she felt, but her thoughts scattered as Clover's fingers brushed over her waist, sending sparks of warmth where they touched.
The blonde's muscles tensed, her hips bucking against Clover's once more, blunt nails digging into the skin of her hips as she came, her orgasm washing over her in waves, sweeping her away like a sandcastle built near the shore. She cried out Clover's name, her vision blurring as she rode out the orgasm, her body trembling. Paige had almost missed the way Clover was quick to follow along, brought over the edge by the sight of the blonde beneath her.
Clover's chest rose and fell heavily, her breathing uneven as she stayed poised above Paige. For a moment, she felt herself softening, the sight of Paige sprawled beneath her—a mixture of flushed cheeks, mussed blonde hair, and half-lidded blue eyes—making her hesitate. Paige looked so beautiful in her afterglow, so raw and unguarded. A quiet part of Clover wanted to stay, to lean down and press a lingering kiss to her lips, to let herself feel the intimacy of the moment instead of running from it.
But then the memory crept in, uninvited.
It hit Clover like a sharp jab to the chest—the last time they had been in a position similar to this, how Paige had left her without a second glance. Her jaw tightened subtly, and she straightened up, the decision crystallizing in her mind. If Paige could leave her like she didn’t matter, then Clover could do the same.
Her fingers twitched as she quickly sat up, no longer interested in being close. No longer interested in lingering in the warmth of Paige's body. The image of Paige's face—beautiful, bizarrely innocent, but so distant—made her blood boil, and she stood abruptly, pulling herself together before Paige even had a chance to react.
She didn't look back. Didn't wait for the moment to dissolve into some kind of apology or shared understanding. With swift movements, Clover gathered her underwear from the floor, pulling them on with mechanical precision, trying not to focus on the tightness in her chest or the way her hands shook ever so slightly as she dressed.
Paige's voice broke the tension in the room, but Clover didn't even flinch at the confusion in it. The blonde's breathless question cut through the air, but Clover's heart was already somewhere else. Somewhere colder. Somewhere removed.
"Where are you going?" Paige asked, her voice was small, still carrying the traces of what they had just shared.
Clover's gaze flickered over Paige for the briefest of moments—just long enough to see the furrow in her brow, the question in her eyes. She almost felt something—regret, maybe—but it was drowned out by the sting of that memory. She couldn't afford to be soft now. She couldn't afford to care.
"I got a date in less than an hour," Clover said, her voice flat and emotionless, betraying none of the turmoil churning inside of her. She didn't give Paige the courtesy of another glance as she pulled her shirt over her head, the fabric falling into place as if she were shedding some piece of herself along with it.
With a final glance at the room, Clover turned and walked out, each step harder than the last. The door clicked softly behind her, leaving Paige in a stunned silence, her mind racing, her body still warm from the aftermath of what had just happened.
Paige lay there, staring at the ceiling, her chest still rising and falling with the remnants of their shared moment. But instead of the satisfaction she had expected, she also felt hollow. Something in her chest felt empty, as if the pieces of her that had once been tethered to the moment had been pulled away, leaving her exposed and uncertain.
The confusion that filled her just moments before quickly turned to something else—regret, maybe, or perhaps guilt. She hadn't meant to hurt Clover. She hadn't known that leaving that night would leave such a lasting mark, but the coldness that Clover had shown her now... it stung.
As the minutes stretched on in the silence that Clover had left behind, Paige realized something. The distance between them was more than just physical. It was emotional, and it ran deeper than she had thought. She could feel it, that growing gap. Clover had shut down, and Paige had no idea how to bridge the divide that was suddenly so wide and unspoken.
Her breath came shallow and quick, her hands clenching into the sheets as she replayed the last few seconds over and over in her mind. Clover had mentioned a date. A date.
The thought hit her like a bucket of ice water, dousing any lingering haze of satisfaction from her mind. Confusion and guilt twisted in her chest, but it didn’t take long for something sharper to bubble to the surface. Annoyance.
"Really?" Paige muttered to herself, throwing her legs over the side of the bed. She tugged her shirt back over her head with more force than necessary, her jaw tightening. The image of Clover’s nonchalant expression as she casually mentioned going on a date burned into her mind, setting her teeth on edge.
Jealousy twisted its way through her stomach like a knot, coiling tighter with every passing second. She couldn’t help the questions that began racing through her mind. Who was the date with? Someone Clover actually liked? Someone better than her? Was it that same waitress?
The thought made her stomach churn. Clover leaving so abruptly, leaving her this time, stung more than Paige wanted to admit. It left her feeling unmoored, exposed in a way she wasn’t used to.
Paige hated how much it bothered her. And she hated the idea of Clover going to someone else, smiling that same teasing smile, leaving someone else breathless and wanting.
Her scowl deepened, her heart racing in a mix of frustration and something uncomfortably close to longing. She didn’t know if she wanted to pull Clover back or push her further away.
taglist (open) @brenwritesss @bueckersbitch @starlighttsv @ekisokay @st4rrzynight @ohmybueckers
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mantafail · 2 months ago
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★彡 𝘎𝘰𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘹 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘦!𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘺𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 彡★
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!!!THIS IS A ONESHOT!!!
AUTHOR NOTES:
Alright so... Beastars Season 3 is coming! I was rewatching the show and, yknow, kinda remembered the massive crush I have for Gohin. There should be more fanfics with him PLEAAAASEE
This oneshot does not contain any NSFW content. The closest you'll get to that is a bit of making out and roaming hands, but not much else.
I tried to make this oneshot work with any prey species (avian, mammal, etc.), so I decided to write it in second person rather than first. Please enjoy!
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The moon shone high above the sky of the city as the black market sellers were getting ready to… well, sell. The strong scent of fresh, raw meat of all kinds started to waft through the air as the market came to life.
For most animals who worked at the black market, it meant another long night of dealing with stupid and young carnivores. That also applied to Gohin, but… in a different way.
“Alright… time for work.”
The burly panda thought as he walked towards his office. He eyed all the strangers around him as he strolled, trying to spot anyone that had lost control and let their instincts take over.
Unluckily for Gohin, though… his boyfriend was tagging along. Said boyfriend was just someone he had met a while ago, saved his life after almost getting devoured by carnivores, and they just… clicked.
Why was he coming with Gohin, though? Well, the panda wasn't going to leave his “little guy” alone and wander through the dangers of the night.
“... this place reaks…”
The small prey complained, half of their face covered by a face mask Gohin had gifted to them to cover the smell ever so slightly… not the meat's smell. His smell. If a carnivore without control smelt the scent of an alive prey… that wouldn't be good.
“Stop complaining. We're almost there.”
The panda gruffly replied back quietly as they finally turned towards a dark alleyway. Said alleyway leads directly to the tall building where Gohin works.
“I'm sorry if this is a bother, Gohin.” The prey apologized. “I don't mean to annoy-”
“Save your breath, cute stuff. I was the one who insisted for you to come along, anyway.” 
Gohin didn't let his boyfriend finish his sentence.
“... alright, then.”
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After settling in the office, the couple started to do their own work. Gohin was focused on his laptop as he checked what patients he had to deal with today, smoking a cigar as usual, while his boyfriend sat on the couch and looked around the apartment, finding the faint scent of incense in the air quite comforting.
It was clear that this place brought back some… memories in the herbivore’s mind. The black market. Gohin knew that it wasn't ideal, but still. It was much better than leaving him alone.
“How… How long do we have to stay here again?”
The herbivore asked, his voice slightly more quiet than usual. He really didn't seem comfortable here, but… Gohin's presence helped a bit, at least.
“Just until I finish this. I'll drop you back home before any of my patients arrive.”
Gohin spoke without even turning to look at you, his eyes glued to the laptop in front of him. That was until he heard you sigh shakily…
“... hey, hun, you okay?”
He asked with genuine concern, standing up from his office chair and sitting next to his boyfriend, wrapping an arm around him.
“Yes, I'm alright… I just don't like the black market…”
“Hmph… I know. We'll be out of here before you know it, alright, little guy?”
Gohin was surprisingly good at comforting… especially after taking in account how he acts with some of his patients.
“Okay… just… can you stay next to me for a moment, please?”
The prey begged, looking up at the panda with those adorable, wide eyes of his. Gohin couldn't say no to that cute face.
“Alright, alright… but I still need to work. Make this quick, will ya?”
Gohin sighed, the smoke from the cigar finally leaving through his nostrils before he picked his boyfriend up and placed him on top of his lap.
This sudden and… slightly intimate position caused an adorable reaction on the prey, a pink blush covering his fluffy cheeks.
“... I sometimes forget how warm you are, big guy…”
The prey chuckled bashfully as he looked up at the massive panda. This position always got him a bit turned on, but he's going to hold back on those urges for now. At least until they get home…
“Can it, cute stuff. Just smother your face on my chest as always.”
Gohin smirked mischievously and, before the prey could even reply, the panda pushed his boyfriend's head right into his furry, white chest. His massive arms enveloped the smaller animal in a tight and warm hug.
“Mmph!”
That adorable little surprised noise that the herbivore made always sent chills down Gohin's spine. Seeing him so flustered and cute like this made him feel good.
“There ya go, honey… Nice and warm…”
Gohin said in a teasing tone, knowing the effect he was having on the smaller animal.
After a little while of those comfortable cuddles, the prey finally raised his head back up, their fur (feathers, scales, whatever they had) messy after nuzzling so much.
“Feeling any better?”
Gohin asked, that smirk never leaving his lips as he continued to take long and deep breaths of his cigar.
“Y-Yes… but-”
“Ohhh no, here's the ‘but’.” Gohin spoke gruffly, his arms not leaving his boyfriend's body just yet. “What else do you want out of me, hm?”
“A kiss would be nice…”
The herbivore spoke nervously, his blush only growing by the second. It was truly endearing to see him like this.
“Heh, such a needy little critter…”
Gohin chuckled before putting his now almost gone cigar away, smoke still coming out of his mouth after he did so.
Before his boyfriend could even retort, Gohin pulled him into a deep and passionate kiss. He knew the little guy liked it rough, but he couldn't go too rough without the risk of hurting him… so there had to be a balance.
Still, the kiss was incredibly enjoyable for the both of them. After just mere seconds of kissing, said kiss went from just regular and passionate to outright making out.
Gohin's tongue crept it's way into the smaller animal's mouth as the kiss continued, both of them let their hands roam over the other's body.
During the passionate haze they found themselves in, Gohin enjoyed all the adorable little reactions and sounds he got out of his boyfriend. He really loved this little guy…
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sagewritings · 7 months ago
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Grace and Arrogance - James Beaufort x Fem!Reader
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pairing: james beaufort x fem!reader
synopsis: amidst playful bickering, the dynamic between you and james transforms from turmoil to bliss when james sheds his facade of arrogance to reveal hidden admiration.
word count: 2.1k
warnings/tags: mentions of a car accident, fluff with james beaufort
a/n: hello everyone! it's been a while since my last post because i haven't really had any inspiration and time over the past months but after watching maxton hall last week, i just couldn't help but write! ! i wrote this in like an hour on my notes app so it may seem a bit rushed but that's okay :>
if you’d like to check out my other works, you can check the pinned post in my blog :>
i hope you’ll like this fic! happy reading!
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Being a regular visitor at the Beaufort estate has familiarized you with every corner of the house. Now, you have memorized every room and decoration, immediately spotting whatever is newly added. The Beauforts didn’t mind your presence, with your family being close friends of theirs.
But it was not the Beauforts' son who you were particularly fond of.
You were extremely close with Lydia, your best friend since childhood. Despite both of you coming from wealthy backgrounds, your upbringing was notably different. Your parents owned a chain of hotels and restaurants across Europe, but they insisted on raising you humbly, teaching you the value of hard work and modesty. This upbringing made you see through the arrogance often displayed by James, Lydia's brother.
James, with his confident smirk and air of superiority, was someone you couldn't stand. Your encounters often led to playful bickering, a routine everyone at Maxton Hall was familiar with. But behind your teasing, there was an underlying respect for each other, one neither of you would openly acknowledge.
One sunny afternoon, you found yourself in the Beauforts' expansive garden, your favorite place to unwind with Lydia. She was lounging on a chaise, flipping through a magazine, while you were engrossed in a novel. The peace was soon interrupted by the sound of footsteps.
"Well, well, what do we have here? The ladies of leisure," James's voice drawled, cutting through the tranquility.
You looked up, ready to retort. "And here comes the lord of arrogance. What do you want, James?"
James smirked, leaning against a nearby pillar. "Just enjoying the sunshine. Is that a crime?"
"Only if you're planning to cast a shadow over our peace," you shot back, not missing a beat.
Lydia chuckled from her seat. "You two are impossible. Can't you ever have a conversation without turning it into a fight?"
"It's not my fault your brother is insufferable," you said, closing your book and standing up to face James.
"Insufferable? That's a new one. What else do you think about me, Y/N?" James asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Do you really want to know?" you challenged, stepping closer.
"Absolutely," he replied, his gaze locking onto yours.
Before you could respond, Lydia interjected. "Okay, enough, both of you. Can't we just have one afternoon without the bickering?"
You glanced at Lydia, then back at James. "Fine. But only because Lydia asked."
James shrugged, a smug smile on his face. "Whatever you say, Y/N."
Despite your frequent clashes, there were moments when you couldn't deny James's charm. Like the time he helped you with a school project, his intelligence and wit shining through in a way that caught you off guard.
You were in the library, struggling with a particularly difficult economics assignment. The sound of approaching footsteps made you groan inwardly. Of course, it had to be him.
"Need help, Y/N?" James asked, looking over your shoulder.
"I can manage, thank you," you replied curtly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of admitting you were stuck.
He pulled up a chair next to you anyway. "Let me see."
You sighed, sliding the paper towards him. "Fine. But no gloating."
"Wouldn't dream of it," he said with a wink, scanning the problem. "Ah, I see the issue. You're overthinking it. Here, let me show you."
For the next hour, James patiently explained the concepts, his usual arrogance replaced with genuine enthusiasm for the subject. By the end of it, you had to admit he was a good teacher.
"Thanks, James," you said, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips.
"Anytime, Y/N," he replied, his expression softening.
Despite these moments of truce, your dynamic remained largely unchanged. That is, until the day you stopped going to your classes in Maxton Hall without warning. Lydia knew the reason but couldn't divulge it due to your parents' wish for privacy. This secrecy, however, only fueled James's concern and curiosity. Despite your clashes, he had always admired your kindness and humility.
Days turned into weeks, and your absence left a noticeable void. James found himself more worried than he cared to admit. His irritation grew, not just because you were gone, but because Lydia refused to tell him why.
James sat in the library, his usual spot, staring at the empty chair across from him. It felt wrong not having you there to challenge him, to banter with him. The silence was suffocating.
"Where is she, Lydia?" James demanded, cornering his sister in the hallway.
"I can't tell you, James. It's not my place," Lydia replied, her expression firm yet sympathetic.
"You know something, and you're keeping it from me," he accused, frustration evident in his tone.
"Trust me, if I could, I would tell you. But I can't," Lydia insisted, turning away.
James ran a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. "You don't understand, Lydia. I need to know she's okay."
"She is. That's all I can say," Lydia replied softly before walking away, leaving James standing there, his mind racing with worry.
He spent sleepless nights thinking about you, imagining the worst scenarios. Had something happened to you? Were you in trouble? Each passing day without any news felt like an eternity, and the worry gnawed at him incessantly.
The mystery was finally revealed during a dinner at the Beaufort estate. As you and Lydia's parents chatted, the conversation inadvertently turned to your family. James listened intently as they discussed the car accident that had left your father seriously injured. You had been absent to take over the family business in his stead, juggling the responsibilities of an heir with the pressures of high school.
"It was such a terrible accident," your mother said, her voice tinged with worry. "He was lucky to survive, but the recovery process has been grueling."
James's heart sank as he listened. The image of you, strong and resilient, dealing with such a massive burden alone, tugged at his heartstrings.
"Y/N has been amazing," your father added, his voice filled with pride and concern. "She's stepped up in ways we never imagined, taking on the business and keeping things running smoothly."
Lydia's parents nodded sympathetically. "She truly is remarkable. We can't imagine the pressure she's under."
James felt a pang of guilt and a surge of determination. He admired you even more for handling such immense pressure with grace. The next day, he decided to visit you.
You were in the midst of preparing for a business meeting when James arrived at your house. The sight of him surprised you, and your initial reaction was to push him away.
"James, I don't have time for this," you said, frustration evident in your voice as you shuffled through papers.
"I'm not here to argue," he replied, stepping closer. "I'm here to help."
You looked up, skepticism in your eyes. "Help? How?"
"I know how to run a business. Let me support you," he offered, sincerity in his voice.
You hesitated, the weight of your responsibilities making you wary. But the genuine concern in his eyes made you relent.
"Fine. But don't think this means I like you," you muttered, turning back to your work.
James chuckled. "Wouldn't dream of it."
He stepped forward, his presence steadying you as you felt the weight of everything crashing down. You fought back tears of exhaustion, the stress overwhelming you.
"Y/N, let me take some of this off your shoulders," James said gently, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.
"I… I don't know if I can trust you," you admitted, your voice trembling. "You've always been so… unserious."
James's expression softened, his eyes filled with understanding. "I get it. I've been a jerk, but I care about you. More than I let on."
You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. "Why now, James?"
"Because I admire you. Your strength, your kindness. You're handling all of this with such grace, and I want to help you. Please, let me," he pleaded.
Your defenses crumbled, the exhaustion and stress finally taking their toll. "Okay," you whispered, the word carrying the weight of your vulnerability.
James stepped closer, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. For the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to lean on someone else, to share the burden.
Over the next few days, James proved to be an invaluable ally. His expertise in business management eased your burden, allowing you to balance school and work more effectively. The more you worked together, the more you saw a different side of him—one that was caring and dependable.
James took on tasks with a surprising efficiency, his usual arrogance replaced with a dedication that impressed you. He handled meetings, reviewed contracts, and even helped streamline operations, all while providing a steady source of support and encouragement.
One evening, after a particularly long day, you both found yourselves sitting in the garden, the stars twinkling above.
"Do you remember the first time we met?" James asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
You laughed softly. "How could I forget? You spilled juice all over my dress."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "I was so nervous. I wanted to make a good impression, and I ended up making a mess."
"I thought you were a spoiled brat," you admitted, smiling at the memory.
"And now?" he asked, his gaze locking onto yours.
"Now, I see someone who cares deeply about his family and friends. Someone who hides his true self behind a facade of arrogance," you said softly.
James's expression turned serious. "And I see someone who is incredibly strong, even when faced with immense challenges. Someone who inspires me to be better."
The air between you seemed to crackle with electricity. Before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was gentle, tentative at first, but quickly deepened as you both poured all your unspoken feelings into it.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, you met his gaze and saw the same vulnerability mirrored in his eyes.
"I've liked you for a long time, Y/N," James admitted. "I just didn't know how to tell you."
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I guess I like you too, James. Even if you are insufferable sometimes."
He laughed, pulling you into another kiss. The garden seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment.
The days turned into weeks, and with James's help, you managed to stabilize your family's business. His presence became a constant source of support and comfort, and your feelings for him began to shift.
Returning to Maxton Hall, you and James surprised everyone with your newfound camaraderie. The playful bickering was replaced by a growing closeness that neither of you could ignore.
The fundraiser ball at Maxton Hall was an annual event where everyone dressed in Victorian-era attire. This year, you and James were assigned to fix the lights, a task that allowed for a rare moment of privacy.
"Careful with that, Y/N," James warned as you reached for a particularly tricky bulb.
"I've got it," you insisted, balancing precariously on a ladder.
James steadied the ladder, his hands brushing against yours as he helped you with the light. The proximity made your heart race, a tension building between you that neither could ignore.
As the last bulb clicked into place, you turned to thank him, only to find him closer than expected. His eyes locked onto yours, the air thick with unspoken feelings.
"James…" you began, but he silenced you with a gentle touch to your cheek.
"I admire you, Y/N. More than you'll ever know," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.
Before you could respond, he closed the distance, his lips capturing yours in a tender kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, you met his gaze and saw the same vulnerability mirrored in his eyes.
"Can we try this?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.
James smiled, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "I'd like that very much."
As the evening wore on, the lights you and James had fixed illuminated the grand hall, casting a warm glow over the attendees. You stood together, hand in hand, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
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moonstruckme · 1 year ago
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you’re carrying the poly!marauders girlies out here on tumbler rn with all of these writings of yours! could i request some aftercare with the marauders where they’re rly sweet and gentle with a tired reader plz? if not i get it i love your fics <3
Haha thanks lovely! I wouldn't even know about the concept of poly!marauders if not for all the spectacular fics I've read on here, so happy to further the cause. And of course you can! :)
cw: an itty bitty portion of this is smutty and there's definitely plenty implied, so mdni (?) just to be safe
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 863 words
You collapse onto James’ chest, your skin hot and sweaty where it meets his. The only sound in the room is panting, Sirius and Remus having finished just a minute before the two of you. 
“Let’s just go to sleep here,” you mumble into James’ neck, at the peak of contentment with his dick softening inside you and his hand coming up to cup the back of your head. His chuckle rumbles through you as he kisses your cheek, your shoulder. You don’t think you’ve ever been so tired. 
“Wish we could, but I don’t think that’s gonna work, m’love,” he murmurs in reply, and sure enough, you hear the shifting of sheets as Sirius and Remus recover. 
You let your eyes slip shut anyways, hoping to get whatever rest you can and maybe a little in denial. You’re barely conscious of the quiet footfalls of your boyfriends as they approach, but you notice when a cool hand moves the sweat-damp hair from your face. 
“Tired, love?” Comes Remus’ gentlest tone. 
“Mhm.” 
“Aw, Prongs, you’ve really tuckered our poor angel out.” Sirius’ voice is teasing, and you feel James shift as he leans up for a kiss. Normally you’d be envious and raise your head for a kiss of your own, but you can’t muster the energy. “C’mon, sweetheart, let’s go get cleaned up.” 
You sigh, and it sounds as whiny and exhausted as you feel. You’ll worry about your dignity tomorrow. “You go. M’gonna sleep here.” 
There’s a beat of silence, and you can practically feel Sirius’ sympathetic pout, probably making his case to Remus on your behalf. Then there are hands on your hips, and James’ cock slips out of you as you’re lifted off the bed. 
“You don’t want to sleep in all that, honey,” Remus says, setting you on your feet. Your legs tremble underneath you, thoroughly worn out after the ride you’ve had on James just a minute before. “It won’t take long, and then we can all go to bed after.” 
Sirius has disappeared into the bathroom, and James gets out of bed once he spots the tremor in your knees. “I got you, angel,” he says chivalrously, taking a good portion of your weight with an arm under your shoulders. “Seems like the least I can do.” He winks. The two of you follow Remus into the bathroom, and you’re reminded of how grateful you are that James comes from money, because he’s the only one with a shower big enough to fit all of you. 
SIrius is already inside and James passes you off to him, going to fetch towels. The hot water doesn’t lessen your drowsiness, and Sirius has to brace himself against the wall as you melt against him. “Easy, sweetheart,” he laughs. “We’re not all athletes made of pure muscle.” 
“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, moving to lean on the wall beside him. 
“Our good girl,” he coos, gripping you with a hand around your waist to ensure you don’t slip. Remus and James are lathering themselves in soap beside you, the steamy air filling with the scent of lavender and eucalyptus. “Riding cowgirl isn’t so easy, hm?”
“I don’t think my legs will ever recover.” 
Sirius’ grin is wolfish. “I’ll massage them for you, baby.” 
James snorts, and you roll your droopy eyes. “Thanks.” 
Remus has finished rinsing off, and his skin slides against yours as he wraps his arm around your back. “Pads, love, wash off. I’ve got her.” 
Sirius slips free of you, joining James under the stream of hot water. Remus lathers some soap in his hands and grabs a washcloth, gentle but thorough as he removes the sweat and slick from your breasts, your stomach, your thighs. You whimper softly as the cloth brushes your cunt, and Remus’ grip tightens slightly around your waist. 
“I know, love,” he murmurs. “You’re alright. Not too sore, are you?”
“No, just sensitive.”
He hums, thumb stroking comfortingly on your back. 
Remus is right; it’s only a few minutes before you’re all emerging from the shower smelling far nicer and feeling far less sticky than when you went in. You miss the hot water for only a moment before James is wrapping you in a towel, a matching one slung around his waist. Remus slips out of the bathroom to change the bedsheets while you stay in the steam with James and Sirius, both boys letting you brush their hair out for them before Sirius does yours, working the tangles free with a gentle hand. When Remus tells you all the bed is ready, you’re eager to slip on one of James’ t-shirts and into the soft sheets, your eyes closing before your head hits the pillow. Sirius rubs up and down your back as he settles in behind you, and it’s all you can do to hum lazily in thanks. 
Even he seems too tired to make fun of your lethargy, and the room is silent but for the sounds of quiet breathing once again. 
“I love you all,” you murmur into the darkness, and you fall asleep before you can hear anything else, but you know they say it back.
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