#maybe they did but it we didn't see any of it and none of it is ever mentioned
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beanarie · 1 day ago
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of course
in which the helicopter crashed with both our guys inside. inspired by this awesome post by @mooshkat
(tw: vomiting, heart issues, near death angst, biphobia mention)
~
Once the wave of agony subsides, and Tommy is reasonably sure he's done vomiting into the dirt, he blinks over at Evan appraisingly. "Is your arm broken or did your shoulder go out again?"
Evan grimaces and finishes tying off Tommy's splint. "Shoulder. And my hip's not feeling great. Cracked rib, maybe two. But of course you had to outdo me."
"Didn't do it on purpose." Tommy glares at the spot where his tibia poked through the skin, like he can intimidate the pain away. "Anyway you've got me on quantity."
"There's nothing else?"
"My head hurts," Tommy admits, "but there's not much we can do for that right now."
Evan leans in to compare his pupils. Tommy is very proud of himself for not flinching. "Dispatch had our location?" Evan asks, and instead of reminding him that he was there when they confirmed it, Tommy nods.
He knows he can't go to sleep, even if the leg would allow him. He finds a stick and starts tic tac toe. Evan chuckles and joins in.
He wins the next two games. Tommy blames his probable concussion.
Evan holds his bad arm tight around his midsection, but his eyes seem stormy for a different reason. "These people who hurt you in the past, what- what are their names?"
"Huh?" Tommy gives up on the game, scratching it out of the dirt. "You want a full list of legal names or just what I called them?"
"Was it Evan, for any of them?"
God, he's so transparent. Tommy laughs.
"Do you- do you judge everyone by who came before? Is that just what you do in a-all situations? One barista spilled coffee on you in 2011 and you pay for Starbucks with one of those grabby reacher things ever since?"
"Fuck's sake." Tommy doesn't even like Starbucks, but he doesn't say that.
Evan sort of shrugs before he remembers his shoulder with a wince. "It's not generally considered a sign of maturity. Ironic, I guess."
"Yeah, call me old. See where it gets you."
Evan brightens. "You're talking to me. I like my results so far."
There's something indefatigable about this man. Tommy can't help but surrender in the face of it, just a little. "How did you know I'd have to pinch hit for this fly along?"
"I didn't. I just hoped." His grin is just the slightest bit abashed. "Worst case scenario, get out of the engine for a day and I pump one of your coworkers for info."
"They have very little to pump," Tommy says. Evan and the codependent 118 are the aberration, and they're well aware of that. Tommy has great coworkers. They do their jobs and leave, with the exception of drinks once or twice a month. None of them gave him shit after the breakup. Few of them noticed. This is how most teams operate. Evan, however, looks surprised and a little sad. "What were you hoping to hear?"
"I don't know." Evan looks away, suddenly self conscious. "That you messed yourself up at least half as much as you did me."
Tommy rubs at his face. "I didn't mean to mess you up, Buck. Truly. We- It just ran its course. It doesn't reflect badly on you, or me. This just happens."
He looks upset at first, then calculating. "What if I hooked up with those Not-Evans?"
Tommy looks behind him, searching for something that makes sense. "What if you moved to the moon? I have no idea what you're getting at right now."
"Would I be experienced enough for you if I let them have a go? They were terrible for you, so it stands to reason they'll be terrible for me, too." He lifts a finger, his eyes lighting up in a way that turns Tommy's stomach. "Oh, I guess one or two of those might be women. They don't count. Some might be bi and married to women. Do they count as half? If I bag a threesome, is that like seventy-five percent? Do you give points for polyamory?"
Tommy feels about eighty years old, and not a fit eighty. "When did I say even one of those things?"
"The implications were pretty clear, Tommy. 'You're just young and excited. You don't know what you're feeling or how to interpret anything going on in front of you.'"
Tommy doesn't know what to say to that. It's not remotely what he meant, but he's never been good at communicating through panic.
"Did you love me?" Evan asks quietly. Tommy can't look him in the face. "It felt like you- like you did, but when you let me go like that, like chopping off the top bit of a carrot, it made me re- reevaluate everything I thought I knew about us."
The note of devastation in his voice almost tips him over, but ultimately what does it is the implication that Tommy made Evan lose faith in himself. He can't abide being responsible for that. "Of course I love you, Evan. How could I not?"
The tightness in his chest, that felt so much like raw emotion, intensifies, growing sharper. It's hard to breathe now, like sucking a milkshake through a coffee stirrer, and he realizes, something is very wrong. About as wrong as it could possibly be.
"Oh," he says. An attempt to inflate his lungs all the way makes his vision go sparkly at the edges.
"Tommy?"
Tommy drags his eyes up to meet Evan's. "S- Sorry, I-" I wouldn't have said any of those things if I knew. "Sorry. Evan." You deserve better than a fucking deathbed love confession.
A rough hand grasps his neck, slowing his descent to the ground. "No, hey. Hey hey hey. Tommy, we'll figure this out." Evan sniffles and tries to smile. His tears are falling everywhere. "You're okay. You're fine. Just keep- keep breathing."
The coffee stirrer is about a millimeter wide. Tommy can feel the muscles in his neck straining like he's deadlifting his own weight. Evan rips Tommy's shirt open and he swears floridly, miserably. They both know what this is; they've seen it in a hundred MVAs. Cardiac tamponade. When his heart gives out from the strain of all the blood surrounding it, chest compressions can be worse than useless. They could punch his ticket that much faster.
"Tommy," Evan says, pulling Tommy into his lap. The complaints from his splinted leg are distant, belonging to someone else entirely. Evan's voice is a ragged mess trying to piece itself together. His shoulder and ribs are probably killing him. "Don't run out again. You need to stay. Breathe."
Half a millimeter.
One quarter.
Tommy can't remember what comes after millimeter.
"That's it. I know it's hard, but keep trying. That's all I ask. Just try, okay? Look at me."
Micrometer? Is that it?
Evan's face is shadowed by the sun cresting over his shoulder. Tommy closes his eyes against the glare and is rewarded with a shake.
"Keep your eyes open. Stay with me. Just a little- little bit longer, please."
Fingers are running through his hair, lips are pressing against his forehead, and he thinks he can hear... sirens.
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xalandrix · 21 hours ago
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i totally agree with all of this, but when i finally found the OP there was a nuance that stuck out to me:
... their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.
maybe it's just me, but that does sound... extremely fucking discouraging tbh. not that they didn't comment, but that they didn't see the point of commenting. that's different from "i don't know what to say" or "i don't always have the energy" or "i meant to and i forgot" or "i cannot bear for this person to perceive me in any way" or "i didn't like it enough to comment" or any other reason. that's all totally fine!
but if the prevailing attitude were truly "why would i talk to authors???" i think that would negatively affect my enthusiasm for writing. to me that almost feels like not thinking of writers as part of the community - not recognizing that we're also people you can talk to, in that little box right there at the bottom of the page. you don't have to! just recognize that it's something that you could do, and we would love it if you did (i know I'm preaching to the choir lol just trying to be clear)
re - your last post, as a writer i find that to be an absurd take. people who write exclusively for validation probably shouldn't. if discovering your work is enjoyed and loved - just privately - is a dealbreaker for you, i think there are probably bigger issues that need to be worked through. the idea that we write fic for free and yet this discussion about "payment" through kudos/comments persists is so backwards and obnoxious.
sorry to tag you on this, obv you have nothing to do with op, but i just wanted to say - as a writer recs are a HUGE deal. to know that you liked something enough to share it with others is the biggest compliment for me personally. thanks for doing what you do.
I’m happy you reached out because this is a really interesting perspective. I definitely see increased messaging around comments = payment that pressures readers into thinking they are required to leave comments, and I agree that there are many layers in this convo that point out to a not-so-healthy relationship with fandom.
I find it hard to join this discussion not being an author myself, because I only have the privileged perspective. Ofc I understand how important feedback can be to boost newcomers and those who don’t feel part of the community. We all deal with insecurity in different ways and it’s hard to navigate a big fandom when you don’t have a group of friends to rely on. In the end the fandom experience is about a sense of belonging and it saddens me to realize that I might be part of the problem since my recs only reach Tumblr and my ao3 comments are far and few in between.
It’s funny because my blog has always targeted other readers: at the beginning I didn’t even tag authors and did not expect them to find or engage with my posts. Over the years the recs became more and more personal, until I realized I was writing them for myself. Sure, they are love letters to the fic and might help more people find them, but at the end of the day this is my little therapy corner where I can let go and babble around to my heart’s content 🙏🏼 I’ve always been proud of this blog and seeing that post gave me mixed feelings about it for the first time, so thank you for your message!
Again, I think this discussion has many layers and I’m a bit wary to get involved being a humble reader, but I’d be curious to see how others feel about it…
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incorrect-hs-quotes · 1 year ago
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DAVE: do you think the army men in toy story came like preprogrammed with horrible memories of a war they never really fought in or did andys play create those memories
DAVE: like do they come out of the bucket quietly rocking muttering about hill 40 or did andy force them to kill
JOHN: …….gonna be thinking about that one. :(
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therealslimshady · 1 year ago
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theres a lot of things that I wasn't expecting when watching evangeleon for the first time, but the thing that threw me for a loop the most was the shinji tragic gay romance arc????? Hello???? After all that girl stuff?????
#This is not a bad thing btw#Just so hilarious how they did so much will they won't they with the girls and then he just fell heads over heels with Kaworu#Say what you want about holding the same still frame for five minutes but that shot.... With the music.... heartbreaking#I think it's really cool that that's the one time the audience doesn't get to hear shinji lose it#Got very disappointed when the next episode didn't deal with that at all#Which don't get me wrong- I think the trippy ''how can I be happy'' stuff was cool!#It just would've been better if they had done any kind of lead up to it whatsoever#like can you imagine if they're all rushing to stop the third impact and then something happens and we get those last two episodes#no further explanation no hints as to what's really going on outside shinji's head besides quick shots that might just be misdirection#It would be so cool it would be so cool do you see my vision#Idk maybe they do that in end of evangeleon but I couldn't watch it#tried to push through but man... It's so bad....#None of them would fucking do that#Anyways I heard the mangas different I wanna give that a read#All the characters are so good im obsessed with all of them#Please give all legal rights to evangeleon to me I have so many good ideas I can make evangeleon better then sliced bread you have no idea#No one is going to read this BUT IF YOU DO please talk to me about evangeleon I need someone to talk about evangeleon with#Anyways#Nge#neon genesis evangelion#Evangeleon#shinji ikari#kaworu nagisa#My post
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strangenerdwagongarden · 7 hours ago
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The really funny part is the chaos of the potential misunderstandings and miscommunication that would then ensue especially if wanda didn't intend to keep things secret so she doesnt realize that her team doesnt know and if she doesnt really get the chance to explain everything all at once. Like Im imagining the Avengers don't even know that wanda isn't actually staying at the avengers compound right because they all have their own places and are off doing their own thing. Clint's back on the farm with his wife and kids and is semi retired natasha is splitting her time between her own apartment or wherever and spending time with melina, alexi, and yelana plus dealing with all the former black widows and stamping out any remnants of the red room tony is running si and spending time with pepper, Morgan, and Peter etc... none of them really use the compound as anything more than a headquarters for missions and a place to hang out or crash when a mission runs long and they don't realize that wanda isn't actually staying there either not until they're needing a place to lay low and wanda without thinking just goes why don't we go back to my house and since I ship agatha/rio/wanda we have wanda just casually mention that "it might be a bit crowded with my wives and kids home but they won't mind and nobody will look for us there" and everybody else is confused because what is she talking about ? what does she mean her kids?! What does she mean wives?!?! Just them being totally confused because when did wanda have kids? and why didn't she mention them? but also... when did she get married? and if she hasn't come out yet, they're just like, since when was she gay? and did she just say wives?! and this is before they even get to Westview and meet everybody so wanda is realizing just how little they know and decides to just take them home with her and give them the rundown when they get there except the avengers don't know about nicky or how the twins came to be and about all the rapid ageing and reincarnating into other bodies and all that so after the avengers calm down a bit they start figuring okay so wanda started seeing somebody or maybe had a one night stand in the last few years while they weren't around and didn't tell them she got pregnant and had a baby till now so they are expecting little kids if not toddlers until they get to Westview and are met with two teenagers which considering wanda is in her late 20's-mid 30's I think and the twins look like they're in their late teens which has them all doing the math in their heads trying to calculate how old wanda would've been when she had them. Just the thought of wanda happily introducing her kids to her friends as they are all mentaly spiraling into protective older sibling mode thinking that wanda was a teen parent which only gets worse when they recal that wanda was with hydra meanwhile wanda is oblivious and is just glad that the people she loves are all meeting each other. And imagine if the kaplans show up before wanda can explain but she still introduces them as Billy's other parents so now the avengers are looking at Jeff assuming he's wandas ex and the twins bio dad (which I guess is technically true for Billy seeing as the body is still Williams) and are fully ready to fight him thinking that he abandoned a teenage wanda while she was pregnant with the twins. I also think it would be hilarious if the Avengers meet agatha and rio and find out that rio is Lady Death and wanda gets her own. "What can I say? I like the bad boys" moment.
Or, Alternatively, wanda is purposefully hiding the kids and everybody else from the Avengers but is failing. Badly.
Like just imagine the team is in a meeting discussing an upcoming mission or something and wandas phone is going off and it's either agatha or rio or one of the kids calling because they miss her and want to know when she coming home or maybe there's some magic based emergency back home and they need help or maybe it's one of the kids schools calling because one of the kids is sick and needs to be picked up just something like that and wanda doesnt want the others to hear so she tries to casually excuse herself but she's not a very good liar so now everybody is suspicious that she's hiding something.
Or the avengers start noticing that she's skipping hanging out with them a lot lately like tony invites the rest of the team out to eat or to watch a movie or whatever but wanda has to be back in jersey because it's her week with Billy and she needs to pick him up from the kaplans so she's just all like "oh I can't I have plans" and just leaves so now the rest of the team is just like what the heck is that about?
And this just keeps going on little moments like these adding up making the rest of the team aware she's keeping a secret but they don't know what it is until something happens where wanda gets caught like maybe nicky shows up because he missed wanda or maybe Billy gets sick or hurt and Rebecca shows up with him while panicking because she isn't sure what to do like if it's something she can get away with taking him to a normal hospital for or not or the avengers are really in a bind and wanda has to call in agatha or rio to help or maybe something happens where the twins end up exposing their powers so the avengers are tasked with finding them or there's some big battle where the twins show up to help and the avengers are confused as too who these random teenagers are or why wanda is being so protective and tearing into them about putting themselves in danger until one of them ends up accidentally calling wanda mom in earshot of the team
So I'm a big fan of the mcu I fell a bit behind and have been trying to get caught up on the new shows and movies recently I just binge watched wandavision and agatha all along and I came up with a funny au where the avengers are successful in defeating Thanos and everybody lives nobody dies so like Steve doesn't stay back to be with Peggy and him tony and nat and all the rest of the avengers are still kicking around and it's like all the typical the avengers are a found family fics except the events of wandavision and aaa still happen but wanda doesnt die in mom and lilia alice and mrs davis are still alive and now wanda is pulling a Clint hiding her secret family from the rest of the team. Like I'm picturing it's a few months to a few years after aaa and wanda is back in Westview trying to make amends with everybody she's got Tommy back and she basicly has split custody of Billy with the Kaplans she's learning magic from agatha and the rest of the coven and her and Billy are even able to resurrect nicky like everything's good the world's at peace and the avengers are still doing minor missions here and there but for the most part they are each happy doing their own thing until just like in aou the team needs to hide from the latest big bad and wanda decides to take them back to Westview and the rest of the avengers are just shocked to meet the twins and everybody else
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lyrefromthesea · 4 months ago
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How would the hashira react if we accidentally pushed him off the bed while sleeping?
Male hashira x Reader - It's OUR bed
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pairing: Tengen x Reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader
content warning: none
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Tengen:
• he wakes up before he even hits the ground. did you just push him down? he immediately checked, but realizes you aren't awake.
• with a quiet scoff, which turned into an even more quiet laugh, he stands up and takes his original place in bed again.
• to make sure that you're not pushing him down another time, he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close enough to nearly use him as a bed instead.
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Obanai:
• he hits the ground and nearly panics. if you pushed him out of the bed in your sleep, then maybe you subconsciously didn't like having him close.
• he's quick to disregard that thought, because you quietly stirred next to him, as if you couldn't sleep without him.
• when he finally takes his place in bed again, he lets his fingers brush against yours, wanting to have contact with you. he feels his heart swell when you wrap your arms around his and press it against your body.
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Rengoku:
• falls out of the bed and stares at the ceiling with his big owl eyes. he sits up straight in a matter of seconds, asking what just happened.
• though he didn't want that to happen, he accidently wakes you up. seeing you yawn and rub your eyes, he stands up to comfort you into slumber again.
• he'll hold you close to his chest, so you can fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.
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Sanemi:
• he lands on the ground face first, his hand still clinging onto your arm. the reflex that usually was there to protect you, took you down with him this time.
• the air got knocked out of his lungs after you fell on top of him, letting out a quiet groan. the man turned his face to the side, grumbling in his tired voice, while he felt you get up.
• he's too tired to even talk about it, letting himself fall into bed again and pulling you with him. he ends up falling asleep on top of you, your cheek squished against the top of his head.
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Giyuu:
• he sleeps on his side, when you accidently pushed him down the bed, it made him fall onto his back pretty hard. it normally wouldn't have bugged him, he was a hashira and knew how to handle pain. unfortunately, his muscles ached after the fall, because he had landed rather unlucky.
• he won't say anything or wake you up, because he doesn't want to disturb your sleep. expect for the quiet grunt leaving him, he makes sure to keep absolute silence and hold you close again.
• when you see him feel unwell the next day and ask what's wrong, he'll explain it to you. "why didn't you say anything, i would've helped immediately!" he fell silent, his cheeks flushing. he had been too shy to ask for your help.
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Gyomei:
• he was sleeping on the edge of the bed to begin with. it wasn't your fault when you turned and bumped against him, making the man fall down the bed.
• he opens his eyes slowly, hands feeling the ground under him, eventually brushing against the blanket that was hanging down the bed.
• it didn't hurt and it was clearly an accident, he didn't see any reason to talk about it. instead he stands up again, makes sure that you sleep in a proper position and puts a protective arm around you.
• you may never know what happened, but that didn't disturb him. he loved you after all.
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mcrdvcks · 2 months ago
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Until I Found You
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Summary: Living in a small town had it's pluses and minuses. But when an older man and his daughter move in, things start to change, perhaps for the better.
Word Count: 24.3k+
Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!teacher!reader
Notes: this is looong, and believe me, i was surprised when i realized that it ended up being 24,000 words.
this thing is a slow-burn, i was literally screaming at my screen saying 'just kiss already!' then realizing that, in fact, i'm the one who has to make them kiss or confess or do something.
reader has a last name, but other than that, she isn't described. this technically could be considered an AU of logan (2017) where logan survives, so this was written with old man logan in mind.
i would like to turn this into another oneshot series, so don't be afraid to send in any requests! (relating to this or anything else you want to see!)
warnings: none!
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The small town you lived in meant a few things, everyone knew everyone, and everyone got in everyone’s business.
A few months ago, an older man and his young daughter moved into town. You weren’t sure exactly how old he was, of course you knew who he was, but even you had to admit, he was attractive. But that’s what everyone thought, you heard the mothers who would pick up their children from school, looking at Logan as he picked up Laura.
It was nice to see a man who picked up his kid, though you’ve never seen Laura’s mother, so perhaps that explains why.
Laura was a quiet and sweet girl, at least that’s what you thought. Apparently, she also had the spirit of a firecracker and got angry easily. And while she’s visited the principal’s office at least 9 times since she’s been here, you still can’t help but see her as a cute little girl who’s been through something traumatic, whatever it was.
You were standing outside with your class in the afternoon, waiting until all the students were picked up. Laura was in another teacher’s class at the end of the day, your coworker Emma Zhou. You and Emma stood next to each other, your classes mingling as they waited for their parents to pick them up.
Emma leaned close to you, ��this is my favorite part of the day, you know.”
“Yeah, I think it’s everyone’s favorite part of the day. We get to go home after this.” You replied.
“It used to be that, but now…” Emma trailed off as you glanced over at her, “there aren’t a lot of people in this town who are good looking. But he’s a great new addition.”
You hummed noncommittally, so what if Logan was good-looking? It wasn't like you spent your time ogling him. He was just another parent in the sea of them, a bit rougher around the edges maybe, but nothing that special. Emma shot you a knowing look.
"Come on, you’ve seen him, right? That scruffy beard, those eyes," Emma said, nudging you with her elbow. "He’s like one of those rugged cowboys from the old Westerns."
"You sound like you're about to swoon," you teased, trying to keep the conversation light. You didn't want to admit you might have noticed the way his eyes softened when he looked at Laura or the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.
"Well, can you blame me?" Emma shot back with a grin. "Small town like ours, and a guy like that shows up? It's bound to turn some heads."
You knew that much. All the women, even those who were married, always ogled him, but he either didn’t mind or didn’t care. His salt and pepper hair, the thick beard—he was practically a wet dream for women everywhere.
Emma nudged you again, eyes gleaming with mischief. "What, you’re not even the least bit curious about him?"
"I mean, sure, he's... attractive, but I'm not about to join the fan club," you said, shrugging it off, though you could feel heat creeping up your neck. You kept your focus on the kids in front of you, especially Laura, who sat quietly on the steps, doodling in her notebook like she always did while waiting for her dad.
Emma smirked, clearly not buying your indifference. "Yeah, right. I see the way you look over there sometimes."
You scoffed, shaking your head. "You're seeing things."
Just then, you noticed Logan’s truck pull into the school parking lot. He stepped out, running a hand through his hair as he made his way over to the crowd of parents. Laura immediately perked up, her quiet demeanor shifting just a little, and she started gathering her things without a word.
"Speak of the devil," Emma murmured, but you ignored her, watching as Logan approached, his usual scowl in place, though it softened when his eyes landed on his daughter.
He gave a brief nod in your direction as he came closer. "Afternoon."
"Hey," you replied, casually. You weren’t about to give Emma the satisfaction of seeing you flustered.
Laura stood up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder as she walked over to him. She paused in front of you, though, glancing up with those big, serious eyes of hers.
"Bye, Ms. Aberra," she said, her voice quiet but steady with a hint of her accent.
You smiled. "See you tomorrow, Laura."
She gave a small nod before taking Logan’s hand. He didn’t say much else, just a simple ‘thanks’ before turning to leave with Laura in tow. You watched them walk away for a moment longer than necessary, noticing the slight limp in his step that he tried to hide.
"Y/N," Emma sing-songed, breaking you out of your thoughts. "Admit it, you’ve got a little thing for him, don't you?"
You rolled your eyes. "You really need a new hobby."
Emma laughed, but before she could press any further, her attention shifted to another parent picking up their kid, and you were grateful for the distraction. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder about Logan and Laura, what their story was. Everyone in town seemed to have their theories—some more ridiculous than others—but you’d always figured it wasn’t your place to pry.
As the crowd of students and parents thinned out, you found yourself thinking about Logan again. His gruff exterior didn’t bother you—it reminded you of those old Clint Eastwood characters, tough but with something vulnerable underneath. Maybe it was the way he looked at Laura, so protective but with a softness that made you wonder what kind of man he really was when he let his guard down.
Emma’s voice pulled you back to the present. "So, what’s your plan for the evening?"
You shrugged. "Probably just grading papers. Maybe catching up on some Netflix. You?"
"Trying to figure out how to run into Logan at the grocery store," she joked, though you wouldn’t have been surprised if she wasn’t kidding.
You chuckled, shaking your head. "Good luck with that."
As you both said your goodbyes and headed to your cars, you couldn’t help but glance over at Logan’s truck one more time. He was already driving off, Laura in the passenger seat, her head leaning against the window.
You let out a small sigh and got in your car, starting the engine. You weren’t sure what it was about him, but there was something there. Maybe Emma wasn’t entirely wrong.
Not that you’d ever admit that to her.
---
Much to your dismay, you had to go to the store once you were already clad in your loungewear. You wanted to make pasta, only to remember you forgot to get milk after work.
So now, here you were at the small local grocery store grabbing milk and a pint of ice cream for your troubles. The store was quiet at this hour, a few other people milling about but otherwise uneventful. You grabbed a basket and made a beeline for the dairy section, trying to get in and out as quickly as possible. Loungewear was great for a lazy evening at home, but not exactly your first choice for public appearances.
Once you made it to the frozen section, you looked at the pints of ice cream, specifically looking for one of your favorites, Ben and Jerry’s s’mores. “Fuck.” You muttered, seeing a pint of cookie dough in the spot of the s’mores.
You angrily grabbed the cookie dough ice cream to look behind it, only to find a chunky monkey pint. With a huff, you looked at the pint of ice cream, mentally cursing your luck. Just as you were about to put it back onto the shelf, a deep voice spoke from beside you.
"Didn't figure you for a chunky monkey type."
Startled, you looked up and found Logan standing there, one eyebrow raised, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He was holding a six-pack of beer and a carton of eggs in one hand, the other casually resting in the pocket of his jeans.
You blinked, thrown off by the sudden appearance. "What? Oh, no, I was just... I was looking for s'mores," you explained awkwardly, holding up the ice cream like it was evidence.
He nodded, his smirk deepening a little as he glanced at the shelves. "Guess they’re out, huh?"
"Yeah, my luck tonight," you muttered, a little embarrassed to be caught standing here obsessing over ice cream in your loungewear. Not exactly how you wanted to run into the guy you were definitely not crushing on. How could you? He was the Wolverine, around 200 years old, and looked to be the age of your father. Well, if your father was still alive. Or if you ever got to know him.
Logan glanced at the shelf again and shrugged. "S'mores is overrated anyway."
You quirked an eyebrow at him, momentarily forgetting your embarrassment. "Oh really? What’s your go-to then, Mr. Anti-S'mores?"
He smirked, that same low, gravelly voice coming through as he responded. "Not much of an ice cream guy, but if I had to choose… probably plain vanilla. Simple. Not too sweet."
You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped you. "Of course you'd go for the most basic flavor."
His eyebrow twitched slightly at that, and you could see the playful glint in his eyes. "Sometimes simple’s the best option."
You rolled your eyes, grabbing a pint of vanilla. "Well, I guess I'll take your advice tonight, then. Not like I have much of a choice."
He gave you a brief nod, and for a moment, it seemed like the conversation would end there, but then Logan shifted slightly, his weight on one leg, clearly trying to mask the limp you'd noticed earlier. You weren’t sure if it was from the adamantium or something else, but it definitely wasn’t healing like it should. You found yourself biting your lip, wanting to ask but knowing better.
Instead, you went for something safer. "Laura’s doing well in class, by the way. She’s sharp. A little stubborn, but sharp."
He glanced down at you, a flicker of pride crossing his face. "Yeah, she’s a tough one." His expression softened as he added, "She doesn’t talk about it, but I know she likes you. Keeps her distance with most people."
Your heart fluttered a little at that. Laura was a bit of a mystery, rarely engaging much with the other teachers or students, so hearing that she’d let her guard down even a little with you meant more than you’d expected. "Well, she’s a good kid. I try not to push her too much."
Logan nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than you expected, like he was sizing you up in that quiet, brooding way of his. It made you feel both exposed and… oddly seen.
"Anyway," you said, breaking the silence, "I’ll let you get back to your shopping. I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do than stand around talking about ice cream."
He gave a small grunt that might’ve been a laugh, but it was so subtle you couldn’t be sure. "Yeah. See you around, Ms. Aberra."
"Y/N," you corrected, feeling a little awkward. "You can just call me Y/N."
He hesitated for a split second before nodding. "Y/N, then."
You gave him a small smile, feeling a strange warmth at the way your name sounded in his deep voice. He gave a nod before turning to leave, but as he walked away, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at his retreating form. There was something about him—something rough, broken, but undeniably captivating.
---
The next morning, you pulled into the school parking lot, iced coffee in hand, still replaying your chance encounter with Logan at the grocery store. Why did it have to be the one night you went out in loungewear? If Emma ever found out, you'd never hear the end of it. You mentally braced yourself as you walked toward the building, determined to shake off any lingering thoughts about last night.
As you entered the teacher's lounge to drop off your things, Emma was already there, nursing her own cup of coffee. She spotted you immediately and raised an eyebrow.
"You look a little too chipper for a Wednesday," she teased.
You shrugged, trying to act casual. "Just happy to be halfway through the week."
"Uh-huh," she said, not quite convinced. "You didn't run into anyone interesting last night, did you?"
Your heart skipped a beat. How does she know?
"Like who?" you asked, trying to play dumb, but Emma's smirk told you she wasn't buying it.
"Oh, I don’t know... maybe a certain rugged cowboy-looking guy with a truck?" she said, her grin widening.
You groaned. "Seriously, do you have a sixth sense or something?"
"I knew it!" Emma practically squealed. "You did run into Logan, didn’t you? Come on, spill!"
You rolled your eyes and took a seat at the table. "It was nothing. We just ran into each other in the frozen section, talked for, like, two seconds. That’s it."
"Uh-huh, and?" Emma leaned forward, eager for details.
"And nothing. We talked about ice cream. He said s'mores was overrated."
Emma let out a dramatic gasp. "Overrated? Now, I know he's not perfect."
You chuckled despite yourself. "Yeah, well, that's the most thrilling part of my story, so feel free to be disappointed."
Emma shook her head, still grinning. "Oh, I'm not disappointed at all. This is just the beginning."
"There's nothing to begin, Emma," you said, exasperated. "He's just another parent."
"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that," she said with a wink before heading out to her classroom. You couldn't help but roll your eyes again as you followed her out into the hallway.
---
The morning passed uneventfully, but Laura had been quieter than usual in your class. Not that she was typically the most talkative kid, but today she seemed more distant, even from you. She’d finished her assignments early, as usual, but spent most of the class staring out the window instead of doodling in her notebook.
During lunch, you decided to check in with her. You found her sitting by herself outside, picking at the sandwich Logan had packed for her. You approached cautiously, not wanting to startle her.
"Hey, Laura," you greeted, taking a seat on the bench next to her. "Everything okay?"
She glanced at you, her expression as unreadable as always, before giving a slight shrug. "Yeah."
You studied her for a moment, noticing the way she kept her gaze low, avoiding eye contact more than usual. Something was definitely off. You knew better than to push too hard, but you also didn't want her to bottle everything up.
"Well, you know if you ever want to talk, I’m here," you said gently.
She gave another shrug, but this time, her eyes flickered up to meet yours briefly. "I know."
You nodded, letting the silence settle between you. Laura wasn’t one for big emotional outbursts—at least not around you—but you had a feeling she'd talk when she was ready.
"By the way," you said, changing the subject to lighten the mood, "your dad said he don’t like s'mores ice cream. Is that true, or is he just weird?"
Laura looked up at you, her lips twitching slightly like she was trying not to smile. "I like s'mores."
"Thought so," you replied with a smirk. "Well, I’m officially questioning all of your dad's taste now."
Laura didn’t laugh, but her expression softened a little, and she took another bite of her sandwich. It wasn’t much, but it felt like progress. You let her finish eating in peace, feeling a little more at ease knowing that you’d at least gotten her to relax.
---
The afternoon flew by, and soon enough, the end-of-day pickup routine was in full swing. You and Emma stood outside again, watching the usual parade of parents and cars. Logan’s truck was easy to spot as it pulled up to the curb. You tried to act like you weren’t paying attention, but of course, Emma caught you glancing over.
"Still nothing, huh?" she teased under her breath.
"Shut up," you muttered, doing your best to seem disinterested.
Logan stepped out of the truck, his usual stoic expression in place as he made his way toward the school. Laura was already waiting, standing near the steps with her backpack slung over her shoulder. She saw him and walked over without hesitation, but before they left, she turned back to you.
"Bye, Ms. Aberra," she said, her voice a little softer than usual.
"See you tomorrow, Laura," you replied with a smile.
Logan gave you a nod as they walked past, and you couldn’t help but notice the slight limp in his step again. It was subtle, but there. Your curiosity piqued, but you pushed it down, reminding yourself it wasn’t your place to pry.
Emma, however, was still watching you closely. "You’re so not fooling anyone."
You shot her a look. "Seriously, get a hobby."
Emma just grinned, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Oh, this is my hobby, Y/N. And I’m going to enjoy every minute of it."
As you both stood there, watching the last of the kids get picked up, you couldn’t help but glance over at Logan’s truck one more time as it drove away. Emma’s teasing was getting on your nerves, but there was a part of you that couldn’t completely dismiss what she was saying.
Maybe you were a little curious. Just a little. But you weren’t about to admit that to anyone—not even yourself.
---
Over the weekend you decided it was time to get an oil change. You weren’t going to go to ‘Mavin’s Oil Change’, not after that happened. Which is why for the past few years you’ve been doing it yourself.
It wasn’t difficult, and it was a lot cheaper, both wins in your book.
You walked around the hardware store, glancing at the shelves as you carried a new oil drain pan. You paused in front of the rows of motor oil, scanning the labels. Conventional had always worked fine for you, but maybe this time you'd splurge on the synthetic blend. It wasn't a huge decision, but it felt like a small act of treating yourself, in a way.
You were debating the pros and cons of the oil options when you heard the sound of someone walking up behind you.
"Didn’t peg you for the kind to do your own oil changes."
You turned your head and were met with Logan’s familiar gravelly voice. There he was again—of all places, he’d found you here in the auto section of the hardware store.
"Yeah, well, it's cheaper this way," you replied with a casual shrug, hoping to mask the slight surprise in your voice. You gestured to the oil in front of you. "What about you? Conventional or synthetic blend?"
Logan glanced at the shelf, then back at you. "Conventional. Gets the job done."
"Figures." You grinned a little, grabbing the conventional oil off the shelf. "Guess I’ll stick with what I know too, then."
He raised an eyebrow at you, but there was a hint of amusement behind his usual stoic demeanor. "Figured you’d be one to overthink it. Synthetic’s not all it’s cracked up to be."
You chuckled. "I’ll take your word for it, Mr. Oil Expert."
He grunted in response, grabbing something off the shelf for himself. For a moment, you both stood there, surrounded by tools and motor oil, neither of you saying much. It was kind of nice—quiet, comfortable in a way you wouldn’t have expected.
You shifted, holding the oil pan in your hands. "So, is Laura doing anything fun this weekend?"
Logan glanced at you, his face softening slightly at the mention of his daughter. "Not much. She likes to keep busy, but… this town ain’t exactly got a lot going on."
"True," you nodded, biting your lip as you tried to think of something. "She could come by and help me out with my garden, if she’s interested. I know she likes plants."
Logan looked at you, a little longer than usual, and you wondered if you’d crossed some kind of line offering something so personal. But then he nodded. "She’d probably like that."
"Cool," you said, feeling oddly relieved that you hadn’t messed up. "Let me know if she wants to. I could use an extra set of hands."
He gave a small nod, but his eyes lingered on you again for a second before he turned his attention back to the shelf. There was that same weight to his gaze, like he was always sizing things up, figuring people out.
"You know," you said, breaking the silence, "I’m starting to think you’re stalking me. First the grocery store, now here. Should I be worried?"
Logan snorted, shaking his head. "Pretty sure it’s the other way around."
You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. "Excuse me? If anything, I’m just a simple schoolteacher who likes ice cream and doing her own oil changes. Hardly the stalking type."
"Sure," he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching just slightly into what could almost be considered a smile.
You felt your own lips tugging into a grin, and for a moment, it felt easier. Logan wasn’t always the easiest person to talk to, but something about these small, random moments with him made you feel more at ease than you expected.
"Well, good luck with your oil change," he said, turning to head down another aisle. "Maybe see you around."
"Yeah, see you around," you replied, watching him walk away before you continued shopping, a strange warmth lingering in your chest.
As you walked toward the checkout, you couldn’t help but think back on how natural it felt, just talking to him. There wasn’t any awkwardness or forced conversation—just two people running into each other at the hardware store. Nothing to overthink. Except, maybe, the fact that you were starting to like these encounters more than you’d like to admit.
---
Logan blew out a breath of his cigar smoke. Laura said she didn’t like it when he smoked inside so he started doing it outside on the porch.
A small added bonus was seeing you, a few houses down, across the street, currently underneath your car getting the oil to drain.
The door opened and shut behind him as Laura stepped out, “ella te gusta,” she said softly.
He let out a huff, “kid, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, but I don’t know Spanish.”
Laura let out her own huff, sitting down next to Logan’s chair with her sketchbook, flipping it open. She didn’t say anything for a while, just started sketching in that intense, quiet way she had. Logan leaned back, puffing on his cigar, watching the smoke curl up into the air.
He caught himself glancing back across the street, where you were still working under your car. Laura's earlier comment lingered in his mind, even if he pretended not to know what it meant.
After a few minutes of silence, Laura looked up from her drawing. “You should go help her.”
Logan snorted, taking another puff of his cigar. “She’s fine. Knows what she’s doin’.”
Laura raised an eyebrow at him, her expression skeptical. “You’re always saying people shouldn’t be doin’ stuff like that alone. What if something happens?”
“Yeah, but she’s not helpless,” he grunted, though there was something in his tone that sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her.
Laura shrugged and went back to her sketch. “Still think you should.”
Logan glanced at her, then back at you. You were sliding out from under the car, wiping your hands on your jeans, looking like you’d handled it just fine. He grunted again, though this time it was more to himself.
“What are you drawing?” he asked, trying to change the subject.
Laura held up her sketchbook, showing him a detailed drawing of a plant—a vine with thorns twisting around a branch. It reminded him of your garden, something about the way the plants seemed to grow wild but still had a certain beauty to them.
“That for Ms. Aberra?” Logan asked, the name slipping out before he could stop it. He tried to keep his tone casual, but Laura shot him a knowing look.
“Maybe.” She shrugged, but there was a smirk playing on her lips. “She likes plants. Thought she’d like this.”
Logan just nodded, staying quiet. He wasn’t about to get into a conversation with an eleven-year-old about why he’d noticed things about your garden or how you seemed to have a way with plants. That wasn’t his style.
“Why don’t you go show her?” Logan suggested, nodding toward you as you gathered up your tools.
Laura seemed to think about it for a second, then shook her head. “Maybe later. She’s busy.”
Logan raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t push it. He knew better than to try and make Laura do something if she wasn’t in the mood. The kid had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Though he supposes it was his fault.
A teenage girl who was walking a dog, a tan pit bull, stopped in front of your driveway, the dog happily wagging its tail as it patiently waited for you to say hello.
You were still wiping the oil off your hands when you noticed the pair. "Hey, there.” You smiled as you crouched down to greet Juno, who leaned eagerly into your hand, her tail wagging excitedly. "How are you, Juno?" you cooed, giving the pit bull a good scratch behind the ears.
The teenage girl holding the leash smiled politely. “She’s been dying to see you again,” she said, giving the leash a little slack so the dog could get closer.
"Well, I’m always happy to see her." You grinned as the dog nudged your leg, clearly wanting more attention. "Been a busy evening?”
The girl shrugged. “Yeah, but Juno here makes it better. You know how it is.”
You nodded. "Definitely. Plants are my version of Juno. Or baking, it’s hard to decide.”
The girl chuckled lightly before glancing at the car behind you. “Doing your own oil change?”
"Yep," you said, standing up and wiping your hands again on the rag. "Easier and cheaper than going to a shop."
She raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. I wouldn’t even know where to start."
“You’d be surprised how easy it is. YouTube tutorials, mostly,” you said, shrugging as you wiped your hands on the rag.
The girl smiled. "I might have to try that next time. If I don’t mess up my car in the process.”
You laughed. "That’s what the tutorials are for. But yeah, it’s not too bad. You’d get the hang of it."
As you chatted with the girl for a bit longer, Juno continued to happily soak up the attention. You scratched behind her ears one more time before standing up straight. “Well, good luck with the rest of your walk. Always nice seeing you two.”
“Same here,” the girl replied, tugging gently on Juno’s leash. “C’mon, girl. Let’s get home.”
You waved as they continued down the street, Juno looking back at you with her tail wagging. With a satisfied sigh, you turned back to finish cleaning up, putting away the oil pan and bottles of motor oil.
Across the street, Logan puffed his cigar, watching as you gathered your tools and wiped your hands one more time. Laura had gone back to her sketching, though every now and then she’d glance up at him with that same look.
“She’s done now,” Laura said after a moment, still sketching.
“I can see that,” Logan grumbled, tapping ash off the end of his cigar.
“Still think you should go help,” she added, not even bothering to look up this time.
Logan huffed, staring at you as you double-checked your work and began packing up. He didn’t need to help—you were obviously handling everything just fine. But still, there was something about the way you worked so methodically, so determined. You’d done it all yourself, like you didn’t need anyone’s help. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling, though, that maybe he wanted to offer it anyway.
“Kid, you sure know how to push buttons,” he muttered under his breath.
Laura just smirked, flipping another page in her sketchbook.
Logan grumbled to himself for a moment longer before standing up from his chair, tapping out the last of his cigar in the ashtray. “Stay here.”
He walked across the street toward your driveway, hands in his jacket pockets, his eyes set on you as you knelt by the toolbox, sorting through the remaining tools.
“You done already?” he called out, making his presence known.
You glanced up, not expecting to see him again so soon. “Yeah, just finished up,” you replied, standing up and wiping your hands on the rag again. “What about you? Something break down?”
“Nah, just figured I’d see if you needed any help,” he said, his tone casual, though you could tell it wasn’t exactly his style to offer assistance without a reason.
You raised an eyebrow, smiling a little. “You offering to help after the job’s already done?”
"Guess I am," Logan replied with a hint of a smirk, his eyes not quite meeting yours.
You couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, it's the thought that counts, I suppose. Next time, I’ll be sure to save the hardest part for you."
"Yeah, you do that," he said, his voice gruff but not unfriendly. He shifted his weight slightly, glancing over at the now-finished oil change. "You do this kind of thing often? Or just the oil changes?"
"Mostly just the oil changes," you admitted, as you leaned in closer like you were telling a secret. “I went on a few dates with Mavin’s son the first few months I was here and didn’t go over well. Now he overcharges me.” You held up your hands, “but if it’s something complicated, I promise I drive 30 minutes to the city to get it checked out.”
Logan's eyes flickered with interest, the corners of his mouth twitching into something resembling a smile. "That right? Well, can't say I'm surprised. Mavin's a bit of a jerk."
You chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yeah, he wasn't thrilled about me ghosting his son, that's for sure. But hey, I learned how to change my own oil, so I guess something good came out of it."
Logan grunted in agreement, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He didn't say much after that, his eyes lingering on you as if he were trying to piece together something that didn't quite fit. You had a feeling he wasn't used to people like you—people who seemed to find their way into his life, one way or another.
"Well," you said, breaking the silence, "thanks for the offer, even if the job’s already done." You smiled, a little uncertain about what to do next. "Guess I'll see you around."
He nodded, but didn't make a move to leave. "Laura likes you, you know."
That caught you off guard. "Oh," you replied, a bit flustered. "Well, I like her too. She's a good kid. Smart, but... you already know that."
"Yeah," Logan muttered, his voice softer than usual. "She doesn’t open up to many people. But you... you’re different."
You weren't sure how to respond to that, so you just nodded, feeling an unexpected warmth spread through your chest. "I’m glad she feels comfortable around me. She’s been through a lot."
Logan's eyes darkened slightly, a shadow passing over his features. "More than most," he agreed, his voice rough with something that sounded a lot like guilt.
You wanted to reach out, to say something that might make him feel better, but words failed you. So instead, you just stood there, the silence stretching between you, not awkward but charged with something unspoken.
"Anyway," Logan said, clearing his throat as if to shake off the heavy moment. "If you ever need help with the car, you know where to find me. Or Laura."
You smiled, feeling that warmth again. "I’ll keep that in mind. And if you two ever need help with, I don’t know, math homework or... anything else, you know where to find me."
He nodded, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Noted."
You watched as he turned to leave, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. As he walked back toward his house, you couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something more than just friendly encounters at the store.
---
During lunch, you sat in your classroom, enjoying 30 minutes of peace and quiet before the kids came back into the room. The soft hum of the heater filled the space, making the room feel warmer than usual as you flipped through the stack of quizzes you needed to grade. The formulas and diagrams were a blur as your mind drifted back to the weekend, specifically to Logan.
The way he’d offered to help with your oil change, the quiet moments that had followed—it was so unlike him. Or maybe, you realized, you just didn’t know him well enough yet. Either way, something about it had left you feeling... something.
A soft knock on the doorframe pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up to see Emma standing in the doorway, that cheeky grin on her face.
“So,” she started, stepping inside your classroom. “I hear you’re making friends with a certain someone across the street.”
You rolled your eyes, setting down the quiz you’d been half-grading. “I’m not ‘making friends.’ We just happen to run into each other.”
Emma raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Mhm. Sure. Totally normal for him to come help with your oil change, right?”
"My God, how do you know?" you asked, eyes widening in disbelief as you sat back in your chair.
Emma smirked, leaning against the doorway like she had all the time in the world. "Small town. You know how people talk." She paused, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Besides, you’re not exactly subtle. Logan? The gruff guy across the street? It’s hard to miss that you two have been... running into each other more than usual."
You sighed, rubbing your temple. "It’s not like that. He just offered to help with my car, and Laura—"
Emma’s grin widened. "Ah, Laura. That’s the key, isn’t it? I’ve seen how she looks at you. That kid doesn’t warm up to just anyone. She’s a little... prickly, but with you? She’s different."
"She’s a good kid," you said, trying to deflect. "She’s been through a lot, you know? I just think she needs someone to talk to. Someone who’s not... intimidating."
"Sure, sure," Emma teased, walking further into the room and sitting on the edge of one of the desks. "But you can’t tell me there isn’t something more going on between you and Logan. I mean, come on. He doesn’t exactly strike me as the ‘friendly neighbor’ type. More like ‘leave me alone or I’ll stab you with my claws’ type."
You chuckled despite yourself. "Okay, yeah, he’s not exactly Mr. Rogers. But it’s not like we’re... you know, it’s just—"
"Flirting?" Emma offered with a raised eyebrow.
"Friendly," you corrected quickly, though the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you. "It’s just friendly. He’s Laura’s dad, and we’ve talked a few times, but that’s it."
Emma gave you a knowing look. "Uh-huh. Sure. And I’m the Queen of England."
You groaned, pushing your quizzes aside. "Why are you so obsessed with this?"
"Because," Emma said with a shrug, "it’s about time you had a little fun in this town. You spend all your time either at school or working on that garden of yours. You deserve to have a life outside of grading papers and pulling weeds."
"I have a life," you protested.
Emma raised an eyebrow. "Really? And when was the last time you went on a date?"
You opened your mouth to reply, but quickly closed it, realizing you didn’t have a good answer. "Okay, fine," you admitted, "it’s been a while. But that doesn’t mean—"
"Exactly my point," Emma interrupted, flashing a triumphant grin. "Look, I’m not saying you have to marry the guy. But Logan? He’s clearly interested. And I think you are too."
"Okay… even if I was interested, I’m pretty sure a guy like that doesn’t have dating or relationships on his mind. Especially with someone like me." You leaned back in your chair, feeling a mix of frustration and doubt.
Emma gave you a skeptical look, shaking her head. "Someone like you? Come on, Y/N. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re smart, funny, and clearly, Logan thinks you’re worth his time. He’s not just helping anyone with an oil change, believe me."
You sighed, crossing your arms. "It’s not that simple. You know what he’s been through. And Laura... she’s been through so much already. I’m not about to mess with their lives."
Emma smirked, tapping her fingers on the desk. "Mess with their lives? Or make their lives better? Laura clearly likes you, Y/N. She’s practically glued to your side when you’re around. And Logan? He’s different with you. I see it."
You frowned, picking up a pen and twirling it between your fingers. "Laura’s nice to me, yeah. But that doesn’t mean anything. She’s indifferent to most of the other teachers, and she barely talks in class. I don’t even know if she likes me, or if it’s just... I don’t know."
"She doesn’t warm up to just anyone," Emma pointed out. "You’re different. She looks at you like she trusts you, and Logan trusts you too, whether he shows it or not. That’s not something that happens often with them. They’re... well, guarded, for obvious reasons."
You were quiet for a moment, thinking about Laura. It was true—she was quiet, distant with others, but with you? There was something different. She’d even started staying after class sometimes, just sitting there while you graded papers or prepped for the next lesson. And Logan? He was always nearby, watching, but never intruding.
Still, the idea of anything happening between you and Logan felt... complicated. "Even if he did trust me, it’s not like he’s the type to be thinking about relationships. The man’s got enough on his plate. And me? I’ve got work, and... I’m not exactly relationship material."
Emma laughed, shaking her head. "Please, Y/N. If anyone deserves a chance at something real, it’s you. You’ve spent so long taking care of everyone else—your students, your job. Maybe it’s time to let someone take care of you for a change."
You looked at her, skeptical. "You think Logan is the type to 'take care of' someone?"
She smirked. "He already is. He’s just doing it in his own way. And trust me, the way he looks at you? There’s more there than you realize. You just have to stop overthinking it."
Before you could respond, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Emma stood up, giving you one last knowing smile before heading for the door. "Just think about it, Y/N. Sometimes, the best things happen when you least expect them."
You watched her go, your mind still swirling with doubt and a tiny sliver of hope. Could there really be something more between you and Logan? Or was it just your imagination?
As your students started filing back into the room, you pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the rest of the day. But even as you taught your lessons and graded papers, Logan lingered in the back of your mind.
---
Later that evening, you found yourself in the garden, pulling weeds and trying to clear your head. The sun was starting to set, casting a warm orange glow over the small town. You liked this time of day—the quiet, the calm.
Just as you were settling into the rhythm of pulling weeds, you heard footsteps behind you. Turning around, you saw Logan standing there, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his expression as unreadable as ever.
"Need any help?" he asked, his gruff voice breaking the silence.
You blinked, caught off guard. "Uh, with the garden? I’m just pulling weeds."
He shrugged, stepping closer. "Doesn’t hurt to have an extra set of hands."
You smiled, feeling a bit awkward but oddly touched by the offer. "Sure, if you’re up for it."
Logan crouched down next to you, pulling at the weeds without saying much. The two of you worked in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the rustling of plants and the distant hum of traffic.
Eventually, you spoke up, trying to break the tension. "So... Laura’s been doing well in class. She’s quiet, but I think she’s starting to come out of her shell a bit."
Logan glanced at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Yeah? That’s good to hear. She doesn’t talk much at home either."
"She’s a smart kid," you added, pulling another weed. "But I think... she could use someone to talk to. Someone she feels safe with."
Logan was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "She’s been through a lot. Trust doesn’t come easy for her."
You hesitated, then asked, "What about you? Do you feel safe here?"
He looked at you, his expression softening just a little. "Safer than I’ve felt in a long time."
That simple admission hit you harder than you expected. Logan, this gruff, guarded man, was letting his walls down, even just a little. It made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t anticipated.
"That’s good," you said quietly, your eyes meeting his. "I’m glad."
For a moment, neither of you said anything. The quiet between you felt heavy but not uncomfortable. Logan’s presence was grounding, solid in a way that made you feel... safe too.
Finally, he broke the silence. "I appreciate what you’ve done for Laura. She doesn’t trust many people, but with you... it’s different."
You shrugged, trying to downplay it. "I’m just doing my job. She’s a good kid, like I said."
Logan gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. "It’s more than that. She trusts you. And... so do I."
Your breath caught in your throat at his words. There was something unspoken in the air between you, something neither of you was ready to address. But it was there, simmering just below the surface.
"Logan, I—"
Before you could finish, he stood up, brushing the dirt off his hands. "Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it."
You stood up too, feeling the weight of what was left unsaid hanging in the air. "Thanks for the help."
He gave a brief nod, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he turned to leave. "Anytime."
As you watched him walk away, your heart was pounding in your chest. There was no denying it now—there was something between you and Logan. Something real. And it scared you just as much as it excited you.
---
Parent-teacher conferences always stressed you out. Gathering all your students’ information, organizing it all, it was hectic and unreasonable. You couldn’t understand why an email didn’t suffice.
Possibly the worst thing about it is the fact it took place in the school gym, which had no AC. The heat was almost unbearable, making your clothes stick to your skin as you shuffled through your notes, waiting for the next parent to arrive to your table.
The gym was packed, parents and their kids moving between tables as they talked to teachers, making the already stifling room feel even hotter. You fanned yourself with the stack of notes you’d organized earlier, feeling sweat prickle at your back.
You glanced at your list of appointments, sighing when you saw who was next: Logan. You hadn't expected him to come. Laura was doing well enough in your class, but she wasn’t exactly the type to care about grades. You figured Logan would be the same—practical, but not overly concerned about school meetings.
You straightened up, glancing around to see him approaching with Laura by his side. She looked slightly uncomfortable, her arms crossed and her gaze focused anywhere but the gym, while Logan was, well... Logan. His expression was gruff, unreadable as usual, but there was something in his eyes that softened when he saw you.
“Ms. Aberra,” Logan greeted as he reached your table, giving you a nod.
“Logan,” you said, smiling at Laura. “And Laura. How are you two doing?”
Laura shrugged, barely meeting your gaze. Logan pulled out the chair for her, and she reluctantly sat down, still quiet. He stayed standing, leaning on the back of the chair, watching you with that familiar intensity that made your heart skip a beat.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you said lightly, trying to ease the tension. “Laura’s doing fine in class. Really, there’s not much to talk about.”
Logan glanced at Laura, then back at you. “Figured I’d come by anyway. See how things are goin’.”
You nodded, pulling up Laura’s grades on your tablet. “Well, like I said, she’s doing great. She’s one of the best in the class, actually. Quiet, but I can tell she’s always thinking.”
Laura’s face remained impassive, but there was the slightest twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips.
“She’s got potential,” you continued, looking at Logan. “Especially in science. I think she’d be great at anything she wanted to do, honestly.”
Logan grunted in response, but there was a proud glint in his eye. “That’s good to hear.”
Laura finally spoke up, her voice quiet but clear. “I like science. And math.”
You smiled, surprised by her willingness to engage. “Well, you’re really good at it. I was thinking, if you ever wanted, there are some extracurriculars coming up. Science club, math competitions—stuff like that. It might be fun.”
Laura glanced at Logan, who simply shrugged. “Up to you, kid.”
She seemed to think about it for a moment, then nodded slightly. “Maybe.”
“Well, no pressure,” you said, trying to keep it casual. “You can always decide later.”
There was an awkward pause as you flipped through the rest of Laura’s grades, though there wasn’t much else to say. She was excelling, especially considering her background. You couldn’t help but feel a little protective over her, knowing what she’d been through.
“So, uh, anything else you need to know?” you asked, looking back up at Logan.
He shook his head. “Just wanted to check in, make sure she’s on track.”
You smiled, feeling the warmth in his words even if he didn’t show it. “She’s doing great. Really.”
Logan gave you a brief nod, his gaze lingering on you a little longer than necessary before he straightened up. “Thanks.”
You watched as he turned to Laura, ready to leave, but she didn’t stand just yet. Instead, she glanced between the two of you, her brow furrowed slightly like she was piecing something together.
“Are you... friends?” she asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the noise of the gym.
You blinked, taken aback by the question. Logan seemed just as surprised, his eyes widening slightly before he quickly recovered.
“Well,” you said slowly, glancing at Logan for a cue. “I guess you could say that.”
Logan cleared his throat, crossing his arms. “Yeah. Somethin’ like that.”
Laura’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if she didn’t quite believe it but wasn’t going to argue. “Okay.”
She stood up, her chair scraping against the floor as she started toward the exit. Logan hesitated for a moment, giving you one last look before following her. “See you around,” he said, his voice gruff but softer than usual.
You watched them go, feeling that strange mix of emotions again—the warmth, the uncertainty, the possibility of something more. As the door closed behind them, you realized that, for once, you didn’t mind the heat. It was a small town, and people noticed everything. But you were starting to wonder if maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
Laura grabbed his hand as they exited the gym, having already seen her other teachers. She looked up at Logan, as he stared straight ahead at the truck in the parking lot. “Creo que ella te gusta.”
He let out a huff, “kid, don’t know how many times I gotta say it, but I don’t know Spanish.”
Laura gave him a sidelong glance, clearly unimpressed by his response. "You should learn," she muttered under her breath, squeezing his hand as they reached the truck.
Logan grunted as he fumbled for the keys, a slight wince crossing his features as he slid into the driver’s seat. He glanced at Laura, who was already buckling herself in without a word. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t quite easy either.
He turned the key in the ignition, the truck sputtering to life as he pulled out of the parking lot. His mind wandered back to the parent-teacher conference, and specifically to Y/N. She’d always been good with Laura, he could see that. But lately, something about her seemed to calm him too—a feeling he wasn’t used to and didn’t quite know how to handle.
“You like her,” Laura said, breaking the silence with her blunt observation. It wasn’t a question.
Logan’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “She’s a good teacher. You like her, too.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Laura said, crossing her arms. “You act different when she’s around. You don’t growl as much.”
Logan let out a low chuckle, though it lacked any real humor. “I don’t growl.”
“Yes, you do,” Laura said, looking out the window. “But not at her.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. Instead, he focused on the road, trying to push away the thoughts circling in his mind. He wasn’t a man used to... feelings, especially not ones that left him unsure. But Y/N had a way of sneaking under his defenses, and that scared him more than he’d like to admit.
“I like her,” Laura said quietly after a long stretch of silence.
Logan glanced at her, surprised by the soft admission. Laura didn’t trust people easily, and she certainly didn’t like many. But her words carried weight, especially to him.
“Yeah?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.
Laura nodded, still looking out the window. “She’s not like the others. She doesn’t treat me like I’m different.”
Logan felt a knot in his chest loosen, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the relief of knowing Laura had found someone she trusted, or maybe it was the way Y/N had already become a part of their lives, without him even realizing it. Either way, he didn’t say anything more, just drove the rest of the way home in silence, lost in his own thoughts.
---
The next morning, you thanked the stars that it was Saturday. You were exhausted from the large amount of human interaction last night and decided to sleep in a bit before tending to the garden.
After that, and taking a shower, you slipped into comfortable clothes, some small shorts and a large t-shirt that covered the shorts, since it only getting warmer outside.
Even with that said, you couldn’t help but crave chocolate chip cookies, thanking the stars once again that you had all the ingredients.
You turned on the oven, allowing it to pre-heat, as you grabbed a mixing bowl and walked around your small kitchen looking for the ingredients listed on your worn-out piece of paper. You still hadn’t memorized the recipe after making it for years.
The doorbell ringed as you poked your head out the side of your kitchen. When you answered it, you were pleasantly surprised to find Laura outside, wearing what you could only describe as a cute grey shirt with a colorful bear on it. You’d never say it to her, she’d probably leave if you said she looked cute.
“Hey, Laura. D’you need anything?”
“Daddy said I could help with the garden.” She spoke softly.
“Oof, sorry kiddo. Already did it this morning.” You looked back inside your house before turning back to Laura, “though, I could use some help making cookies.”
Laura hesitated for a second, her dark eyes studying you as if trying to decide whether this was worth her time. You were still getting used to her quiet, guarded nature, but you’d learned quickly that she was different around you compared to other people. It was like you had some sort of unspoken understanding, even if you didn’t fully get why.
“Okay,” she finally said, stepping past you into the house.
You closed the door behind her, walking back into the kitchen and grabbing a second mixing bowl. “You ever make cookies before?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at her.
Laura shook her head, standing by the counter as she watched you.
“Well, today’s your lucky day. I’m about to show you the magic of sugar, butter, and chocolate chips.” You grinned as you started measuring out the ingredients. “Can you hand me the brown sugar?”
She scanned the countertop before reaching for the brown sugar, silently passing it to you. You got the feeling she wasn’t used to this kind of thing—normal, mundane stuff like baking cookies on a lazy Saturday. Not that you knew her whole story or anything, but you’d heard enough about Logan and his complicated life to guess Laura hadn’t had a typical upbringing.
As you started mixing the butter and sugar together, you tried to think of something to say. Conversations with Laura could be tricky; she wasn’t the chatty type, and you didn’t want to push her too much.
“So,” you started, keeping your tone casual, “what’s Logan up to today?”
She shrugged. “Resting.”
You raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. Logan resting was a good thing. You knew he’d been having a rough time lately with his health, even though he wasn’t the type to admit it. You figured he was just being stubborn, refusing to slow down even though it was clear his healing wasn’t what it used to be.
Laura remained silent, watching as you added the flour to the mix.
“You wanna stir?” you asked, offering her the spatula.
She looked at it for a moment before stepping closer and taking it from you. Her movements were careful, deliberate, and you couldn’t help but smile as she focused on the task.
“Nice job,” you said, giving her a thumbs-up. “You’ve got a future in cookie-making, I can tell.”
Laura didn’t react much, but you swore you saw the tiniest flicker of amusement in her eyes.
As she stirred, you reached for the chocolate chips. “Best part of making cookies—sneaking a few of these before they go in the dough.” You tossed a couple into your mouth, then held the bag out to her.
She paused, looking at the chocolate chips like she wasn’t sure what to do. After a second, she picked one up and ate it, chewing thoughtfully.
You chuckled. “See? Told you it’s the best part.”
Laura kept stirring the dough while you got the baking sheets ready. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, just… quiet. You didn’t mind it, though. Laura wasn’t the type of kid who needed constant conversation, and you appreciated that about her.
As she worked, you glanced at her again, feeling a strange sense of protectiveness. You didn’t know what exactly she’d been through, but whatever it was, you could tell it had shaped her into someone far older than her years.
When the dough was ready, you started scooping it onto the trays. “Almost done,” you said. “Then it’s just a waiting game while they bake.”
Laura nodded, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she watched you.
You slid the trays into the oven and set the timer before turning back to her. “You want some water or anything while we wait?”
She shook her head, her eyes still on the oven like she was trying to figure out why people made such a big deal out of cookies.
“Well, I’m grabbing a drink.” You poured yourself a glass of water, leaning against the counter as you sipped. “It’ll take around 12 minutes for them to finish. Then we put in another batch, and another until the dough has all been used.”
Laura gave a small nod, her eyes still focused on the oven. It was like she was trying to figure out if all this waiting was actually worth it.
You studied her for a moment, wondering what was going on in that head of hers. She never really said much, but it was clear there was a lot happening behind those dark, watchful eyes. You weren’t exactly sure why she’d taken to you, but you were grateful for it. Laura didn’t let many people in, that much was obvious.
“I can show you a movie. Or maybe some music? I usually play somethin’ while I wait.”
Laura glanced up at you, her brow furrowing slightly. “Music,” she said quietly.
You smiled, glad she was at least open to that. “Cool. Let’s see what we got.” You pulled out your phone and scrolled through your playlist, landing on something mellow, nothing too upbeat or distracting. You hit play, letting the soft sounds of a guitar fill the room.
Laura leaned against the counter, listening, her arms crossed over her chest. She wasn’t fidgety or impatient, just quiet, like she was absorbing everything around her.
You took another sip of water, watching her from the corner of your eye. “You ever help Logan with stuff like this? Like cooking?”
She shook her head. “No.”
You figured as much. “Well, if he ever asks, you’ll be a pro now.” You winked at her, earning the tiniest of shrugs in return.
You both stood there in a comfortable silence, letting the music play. It wasn’t awkward, just… peaceful. The smell of the cookies starting to bake filled the kitchen, and for a moment, it was easy to forget all the heavy stuff hanging in the air—Logan’s health, Laura’s past, whatever weight she carried that you didn’t fully understand yet.
After a few minutes, Laura spoke up. “I talked to Logan about you… last night.”
You paused, surprised she’d bring it up. “Oh yeah? What’d he say?”
She didn’t answer right away, her gaze fixed on the oven. “He said you’re... different from other people. In a good way.”
A warmth crept into your chest at that. “Well, that’s nice of him to say. I think he’s pretty different too, you know. In a good way.”
Laura looked at you, her expression unreadable. “He likes you,” she said, her tone flat, but there was something in the way she said it, like it was a fact she was still processing.
You felt your cheeks heat up a little. “Yeah? Well… I like him too.”
She stared at you for a moment longer before nodding slowly, like she was piecing something together in her head. “He doesn’t trust people. But he trusts you.”
You swallowed, not quite sure how to respond to that. “I’m glad he does. I mean… I care about him, Laura. And you too.”
Laura’s eyes flickered with something—maybe understanding, maybe something else you couldn’t quite name. She didn’t say anything for a while, just looked down at the floor.
Before the silence could stretch too long, the oven timer beeped, cutting through the moment.
“Cookies are done,” you said, turning to grab the oven mitts. You pulled the trays out, setting them on the counter to cool. The smell was even stronger now, warm and sweet, filling the entire kitchen. “Wanna taste test one?”
Laura hesitated for a second before nodding.
You carefully lifted a cookie from the tray, holding it out to her. “Careful, it’s hot.”
She took it, blowing on it before taking a small bite. You watched as she chewed, her face still neutral, but you could tell she liked it.
“Good, right?” you asked, biting into one yourself.
Laura nodded again, chewing slowly. For a split second, you thought you saw a hint of a smile tug at the corner of her mouth, but it was gone just as quickly as it came.
As you both stood there, munching on cookies, the air felt lighter, like some kind of invisible barrier between you had shifted just a little. You didn’t know all of Laura’s story, but you didn’t need to. What mattered was that she was here, sharing this small moment with you, and that was enough.
“So,” you said after a few minutes, breaking the silence. “What should we do next? More cookies? Or maybe try out that movie?”
Laura looked at the remaining dough, then back at you. “More cookies.”
You grinned. “Good choice. Let’s make this batch even better.”
---
After all the cookies came out of the oven, you sent Laura home with a container of some of the batch. You could never eat them all on your own, and you ended up giving some away anyways, so why not give some to Laura?
You walked Laura to your front door and watched as she crossed the street, her figure disappearing behind the door three houses down. There was always something surreal about the way she moved—so quiet, so controlled, like she had learned to blend into the background. It made you wonder what her life had been like before coming here.
When Laura walked in, the container held tightly to her chest, Logan sat on the couch, the soft murmur of the TV barely audible as he sipped from a whiskey bottle. His eyes flicked over to her as the door clicked shut behind her.
“You were gone a while,” he muttered, his voice rough but not harsh.
Laura shrugged, walking past him toward the kitchen. “Made cookies.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, watching her disappear from view. The faint clinking of a container hitting the counter reached his ears. He knew she didn’t do stuff like this unless someone dragged her into it. “With Y/N?” he asked, taking another sip.
Laura reappeared, nodding as she plopped down beside him on the couch, the container of cookies now on the coffee table.
Logan stared at it for a moment, then gave a small grunt of approval. He reached over and grabbed a cookie from the container, breaking off a piece and popping it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, savoring the sweetness that felt out of place in his usual world of bitterness and whiskey.
“Not bad,” he muttered, glancing at Laura. “You help with these?”
She shrugged again, still watching the TV, but there was a hint of satisfaction in her expression that didn’t go unnoticed by Logan.
“Hmm,” he grunted, leaning back. “Maybe next time, you can bring some whiskey to wash ‘em down.”
Laura didn’t smile, but her lips twitched slightly as if she was trying not to.
They sat in silence for a few more minutes, the low hum of the TV filling the room. Logan’s thoughts drifted back to Y/N. He didn’t trust people easily—never had, and probably never would. But Y/N was different. He’d seen how she handled Laura, how she didn’t push too hard or ask too many questions. And she was patient, something Logan knew he didn’t have much of.
“Y/N’s a good one,” he said quietly, almost to himself.
Laura didn’t say anything, but she shifted slightly, leaning her head against the arm of the couch.
Logan watched her for a moment, then sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. He knew settling down wasn’t really in his nature, but for Laura’s sake—and maybe a bit for his own—he was trying. And Y/N? She made that easier, even if he didn’t want to admit it.
“She ask about me?” Logan asked, more curious than he wanted to let on.
Laura nodded, her eyes still on the screen. “Yeah. I told her you were resting.”
Logan snorted. “Resting. That’s a nice way of putting it.”
Laura didn’t respond, and Logan didn’t push further. He knew what Y/N probably thought—that he was just some grumpy guy with a limp, maybe a few too many scars for comfort. She didn’t know the half of it. But she didn’t pry either, and for that, he was grateful.
“Guess I’ll have to thank her for the cookies,” Logan said after a while, taking another sip from the bottle. His mind wandered to the thought of Y/N—the way she smiled when she was around Laura, how she always seemed to have the right balance of patience and understanding. It wasn’t just anyone who could handle a kid like Laura, let alone make her feel comfortable enough to bake cookies on a Saturday.
“She likes you too, you know,” Laura said suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet.
Logan’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“Y/N,” Laura clarified, her tone as flat as ever. “She likes you.”
Logan chuckled, though there was a bit of discomfort behind it. “You don’t know that, kid.”
Laura looked at him, her gaze piercing and a little too wise for someone her age. “She does. I can tell.”
Logan stared back at her, caught off guard by how matter-of-fact she sounded. It was hard to argue with Laura when she had that look on her face, the same look that said she saw through everything and didn’t waste time with pleasantries.
He cleared his throat, trying to brush it off. “Yeah, well… that’s her problem, not mine.”
Laura didn’t react, just turned back to the TV. But Logan could feel her eyes on him for a few seconds longer before she settled back into the cushions.
Logan shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of Laura’s words hanging in the air. He wasn’t used to people ‘liking’ him in the way Laura seemed to imply. People tolerated him, sure, maybe even respected him, but liking him? That was new territory.
He let out a sigh and reached for another cookie. It wasn’t worth thinking about. Not right now.
But even as he chewed in silence, he couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N—and what it might mean if Laura was right.
---
A few days later, you found yourself at Logan’s house helping Laura with some of her English homework. You usually don’t make ‘house calls’ to help students, but you couldn’t deny Laura.
Logan stayed seated in the living room, drinking a beer and watching the TV. But really, he was pretending not to listen to their conversation in the kitchen.
“You’re doing good, Laura.” You said.
Laura shrugged, her eyes flicking over to Logan in the living room. “Can you stay for dinner?” She asked you.
Logan’s head snapped up at that. He hadn’t expected Laura to ask, but there was no denying that the kid had gotten attached to you. Before you could answer, Laura added, “I made something. With Logan.”
That was a lie, of course. Laura had barely touched the stove since the cookies, but she gave Logan a look that told him to back her up.
Y/N smiled softly. “I wouldn’t say no to dinner.” She glanced at Logan. “If that’s okay?”
Logan grunted, shifting his weight. “Yeah. ‘Course.”
Laura gave a small nod, clearly satisfied with the answer. You smiled, pushing the papers aside. “Guess I’m staying for dinner, then.”
Logan shot Laura a look, one that said what exactly are we eating? but she ignored him, turning her attention back to you. “It’s nothing fancy,” she said, which wasn’t reassuring.
“Well, I’m excited. Food always tastes better when someone else cooks it,” you joked, standing up to stretch your arms.
Logan watched you from the corner of his eye as he sat back down on the couch, pretending to be more interested in the muted TV than he actually was. You couldn’t help but notice the way he seemed a little tenser whenever you were around, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. He was trying to stay low-key, but you could tell he was keeping tabs on every move you made, every word you said.
“So, what’s on the menu?” you asked, trying to ease the quiet that had settled over the room.
Laura, sitting across from you, didn’t answer right away, like she was carefully considering her next move. Logan’s eyes flicked over to her, waiting for her response.
“Spaghetti,” she finally said, her voice as flat as ever.
You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile. “Oh yeah? Sounds good.”
Logan gave a low grunt from the couch, and you could tell by his expression that he was trying to figure out when they’d supposedly made spaghetti. But he didn’t contradict Laura, just took another swig from his beer.
“Well, I’m looking forward to it,” you said, standing up from the kitchen table. “Let me know if you need any help.”
Laura didn’t say anything, just headed to the stove where a pot of water was already simmering. You followed her, glancing at the nearly-empty box of spaghetti on the counter. It was clear she hadn’t done this a lot, but the effort was what mattered. And if it meant spending more time with her—and Logan—you weren’t about to complain.
“I’ll get the sauce going,” you offered, stepping beside her. Laura gave you a slight nod, sliding over to make room.
Logan watched from the couch, his eyes narrowing as if he was weighing the situation. He hadn’t expected you to just roll with it, but then again, you always had a way of adapting.
“So, how’s school?” you asked Laura, trying to keep the conversation light while you opened the jar of sauce.
“It’s fine,” she said, her tone noncommittal.
You stirred the sauce, giving a little shrug. “Well, if you ever need help with any other type of homework, you know where to find me.”
She glanced up at you, her expression unreadable, but something in her eyes softened for a second. “I know.”
The two of you worked in quiet sync, with Laura focusing on the pasta and you keeping an eye on the sauce. It wasn’t long before the kitchen started to smell of tomatoes and garlic, the scent filling the air and making the small space feel cozy. For a while, the only sounds were the bubbling pot and the clinking of utensils.
Logan shifted on the couch, clearing his throat. “Need me to do anything?”
You glanced back at him with a smile. “Just sit there and look pretty, Logan. We’ve got this.”
A low chuckle escaped him, though his face didn’t change much. “That so?”
Laura glanced at Logan, her expression unreadable, but you caught the briefest hint of approval in her eyes before she turned back to stirring the pasta.
Once everything was ready, you and Laura brought the food to the small dining table. You plated up the spaghetti, topping it with sauce and a sprinkle of Parmesan. Logan joined you both, moving slower than he probably realized, and sat down with a grunt.
As you all ate, the room stayed comfortably quiet. It wasn’t one of those forced silences that felt awkward—it was more like everyone was just settling into the moment. Laura was still guarded, but you could tell she was starting to relax, even if it was just a little.
“You did good, Laura,” you said, twirling some spaghetti on your fork. “This tastes great.”
She didn’t say anything, just kept eating, but you saw her shoulders ease up ever so slightly.
Logan, on the other hand, glanced between the two of you, chewing slowly. He hadn’t been big on cooking or anything domestic like this, but he could tell Laura had put in effort. He took another bite, grunting his approval. “Not bad,” he said quietly.
You smiled to yourself. This whole thing wasn’t exactly what you’d planned for the evening, but it was nice in its own way—just simple, like normal people having dinner together.
As you were finishing up, Logan pushed his chair back, grabbing his beer bottle from the table. “I’ll handle the cleanup,” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind.
You raised an eyebrow, standing to gather a few plates. “You sure?”
Logan waved you off. “Yeah. Laura and I got it.”
You nodded, stepping back. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it then.”
Laura watched you quietly, her dark eyes flicking between you and Logan. You could tell she wasn’t used to this kind of thing, the casual ease of sharing a meal and cleaning up afterward. But she was learning, and it seemed like she didn’t mind having you around for it.
“Well,” you said, grabbing your bag from the chair. “Thanks for dinner, you two. I’ll see you around?”
Logan grunted in acknowledgment, giving you a nod. Laura followed you to the door, her small figure standing by your side as you reached for the handle.
Before you could leave, she spoke up. “Will you come over again?” Her voice was quiet, almost hesitant.
You smiled softly. “Of course. Anytime.”
She nodded, her face still unreadable, but there was a certain calmness to her now, a trust that hadn’t been there before.
You gave her a little wave before stepping out into the evening air. As you walked back to your house, you couldn’t help but think about how unexpected this had all been.
---
You muttered to yourself, hanging up the phone. Your sink had started to leak, and even though you were fairly handy, when you tightened the pipes, it did nothing.
So here you were, on your lunch break, looking for a handyman that didn’t want to charge you $200 for a quick fix.
Emma walked in, holding a folder with her lesson plans. “So…”
You rolled your eyes, “don’t start.”
“What! I’ve told you, word travels fast. Rose saw you leavin’ his house last night.”
“Rose?” You shook your head, “that woman is 85 and still gossips like she’s 20.” You put your phone down, “I was helping Laura with her English homework.”
"Helping Laura with her English homework?" Emma raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "You mean, at ten o'clock at night? Sure, Y/N."
You groaned, leaning back in your chair. “It wasn’t like that. She’s struggling with some of the writing prompts, and Logan’s... well, you know he’s not exactly the best person for that.”
“Uh-huh,” Emma nodded slowly, setting her folder down. “I’m just saying, you and him… there’s something there. You can deny it all you want, but people see things.”
“People need hobbies,” you muttered. “Besides, Logan’s... complicated. It’s not that simple.”
“I’m not saying it is,” she shrugged. “But you’ve been spending more and more time with him and Laura lately. I’m just curious.”
You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at her. “Curious about what, exactly?”
“Just curious when you're going to admit you like him,” Emma smirked.
“I don’t—" you started to argue, but stopped yourself. “Emma, he’s… I mean, I care about him, but it’s not like that. He’s a single dad with a kid, and I’m just the neighbor who helps out sometimes.”
“Yeah, sure, Y/N.” Emma grabbed her folder and gave you a pointed look, “if you don’t make a move, someone on the ‘Wolverine Watchers’ will.”
You choked on the iced coffee you took a sip of, “the what?”
Emma grinned, “the ‘Wolverine Watchers’. A bunch of women in the town created a Facebook group about him. I joined out of curiosity.”
You blinked at Emma, still processing what she’d just said. “Hold on—there’s a Facebook group about Logan? Are you serious?”
“Dead serious,” Emma said with a smug smile. “They call themselves the ‘Wolverine Watchers.’ There’s, like, at least 30 women in it. Maybe more.”
You shook your head in disbelief, sinking back into your chair. “That’s insane. Why would anyone even...”
“Oh, please,” Emma interrupted. “Don’t act like you don’t get it. He’s rugged, mysterious, barely speaks to anyone, and he’s got the whole grumpy-silver-fox thing going on. They eat it up. Hell, even I get it.”
You glared at her. “You’re not helping.”
She leaned against the desk, still grinning. “Just saying, don’t wait too long, or one of them might swoop in.”
You waved her off, though a part of you felt oddly defensive about the whole thing. “Logan’s not interested in any of that.”
Emma shrugged, pushing off the desk and heading for the door. “Maybe. Maybe not. But are you interested?”
You opened your mouth to respond before shaking your head. “Okay. I’m going to forget this part of our conversation and continue to try and look for a plumber or handyman.”
Emma laughed, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Fine, fine. But if you need help with Logan or plumbing, you know where to find me.”
She left the room at the same time Laura walked in. She walked over to the front of your desk and stared at you with those eyes of hers. “You need help?” Laura finally asked.
You shook your head, “no. Just need a plumber. The sink in my kitchen is leakin’.”
Laura tilted her head slightly, considering something. “Why don’t you ask daddy?”
You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Because your dad’s busy, and it’s not his problem to deal with. I’ll figure it out.”
“He fixed the dishwasher last week,” she pointed out quietly, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “And the dryer.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to bother him with stuff like this,” you countered, trying to ignore how her face lit up every time she mentioned something Logan had done for you. “I’m sure he’s got enough on his plate.”
Laura didn’t respond right away. Instead, she leaned against your desk, her small fingers tapping lightly on the wood. “He likes helping,” she murmured, almost like she was testing the waters.
You looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“Mhm,” she nodded, but quickly glanced away, pretending to focus on the bulletin board behind you. “He’s good at fixing things.”
You watched her for a moment, your irritation from earlier starting to melt away. It was hard to stay frustrated when she was being so earnest. “Okay, okay, I get it. But your dad doesn’t need to be the town’s go-to handyman.”
Laura glanced up at you through her lashes. “Just tell him. Please?”
There was something almost… hopeful in her gaze, and you felt a twinge of guilt. Laura wasn’t the type to ask for much. If this meant that much to her…
“Fine,” you sighed, holding up your hands in surrender. “I’ll ask him. But only because you asked nicely.”
Laura’s lips twitched in the faintest smile, a look of victory crossing her face. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, but you’re not off the hook yet,” you teased gently. “You still owe me an essay on Newton’s laws of motion, remember?”
She scrunched up her nose, making a face. “I know. I’ll finish it.”
“Good,” you nodded, giving her a playful wink. “And don’t go trying to bribe me with homework just to get me to talk to your dad, okay?”
Laura’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “I would never.”
“Uh-huh,” you said skeptically. “Alright, head back to class. Lunch is almost over.”
She gave a small nod, then glanced back at you before leaving. “He really likes you, you know.”
Your heart stuttered, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Laura—”
“Just saying,” she added quickly before ducking out the door and heading down the hallway.
You stared at the empty doorway, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest. Liking you? What did that even mean coming from an eleven-year-old?
You shook your head, trying to push the thought away. Logan was… well, Logan. Gruff, quiet, and often impossible to read. And sure, he’d been more present lately, but that didn’t mean anything. He was just being a good neighbor.
You glanced at the time on your phone, groaning softly. Lunch was almost over, and you hadn’t even finished setting up for the afternoon class.
“Guess I’ll ask him about the sink,” you muttered under your breath, more to convince yourself than anything.
Because if Laura was already noticing things, how long would it be before the whole town started talking?
---
That evening, after school had ended and you’d finally managed to get through the rest of your lesson plans, you found yourself standing in front of Logan’s place. It was only a short walk down the street, and yet, your feet felt heavier with each step.
You could hear the faint sound of a TV through the open window and the soft murmur of voices—Laura and Logan, probably talking about her day. It was… nice. Domestic. Something that made your chest tighten with an inexplicable emotion.
“Just ask about the sink and go,” you whispered to yourself, giving a firm nod. “No big deal.”
You knocked lightly, and a few seconds later, the door swung open to reveal Logan. He was in his usual attire—flannel shirt, jeans—and he looked at you with that same unreadable expression.
“Hey,” you said, suddenly feeling awkward under his gaze. “I, uh, wanted to ask for a favor.”
His brow furrowed slightly, and he stepped back, gesturing for you to come inside. “What’s goin’ on?”
You hesitated, then took a deep breath. “My kitchen sink started leaking, and… well, I tried fixing it, but I think I made it worse. Laura said you’re good at this kind of stuff, so I thought… maybe…”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “You want me to take a look at it?”
“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “If you’re not too busy. I don’t want to—”
“It’s fine,” he interrupted, already grabbing a toolbox from a nearby shelf. “Let’s go.”
You blinked. “Wait, you don’t want to, like, finish dinner or something first?”
He shot you a look that was almost amused. “I’m not gonna let your kitchen flood because of a sink. C’mon.”
You let out a small laugh, relieved by his reaction. “Okay, fair point. Thanks, Logan.”
“No problem,” he grunted, stepping out onto the porch. “Lead the way.”
As you walked back to your place, you stole a glance at him. Logan might have been gruff and intimidating to most people, but you’d come to learn there was more to him than that.
When you reached your house, Logan set to work immediately, inspecting the pipes under the sink. You leaned against the counter, watching as he tinkered and adjusted, his movements methodical and precise.
“You didn’t have to come over right away,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “I know you’ve got a lot going on.”
He didn’t look up, just shrugged. “It’s fine. Better to fix it now than let it get worse.”
“Yeah, I guess,” you murmured. “But still… thanks.”
Logan glanced at you then, his eyes lingering for a moment longer than usual. “You don’t gotta thank me every time I do somethin’ for you, Y/N.”
“I know,” you replied, offering a small smile. “But I want to.”
He gave a low grunt, something between acknowledgment and dismissal, and returned his focus to the pipes. You stayed silent, watching him work, trying to make yourself useful by occasionally handing him a tool or holding a flashlight.
“You’ve done this before, huh?” you asked, breaking the silence again.
Logan didn’t look up, but you saw the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Couple times.”
“Fixing sinks?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Or just everything?”
“Everything,” he muttered. “You learn to handle stuff when no one else can.”
There was an unspoken weight behind his words, something you didn’t pry into. You knew Logan had been through more than he let on—there were pieces of his life you still hadn’t put together, and you weren’t sure you ever would. But that didn’t stop you from being curious.
Instead, you chose to keep the conversation light. “Well, I appreciate it. I probably would’ve made a bigger mess if I’d kept trying.”
He grunted again, this time almost in agreement, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Okay, I walked into that one,” you admitted. “But seriously, thank you. Laura was right—you are good at this.”
Logan tightened the last pipe and stood, wiping his hands on a rag. “She talks too much sometimes.”
You shook your head, still smiling. “She’s just proud of you.”
He didn’t respond, his eyes darkening for a brief moment before he shifted the subject. “It’s done. Shouldn’t leak anymore, but if it does, just call me.”
You nodded, feeling that strange tightening in your chest again. “Got it. Thanks again.”
Logan grabbed his toolbox and started for the door, but something in the air between you both felt unfinished, like there was something unspoken hanging there. Before you could second-guess yourself, you called out.
“Logan?”
He paused, his back to you.
“I meant what I said earlier,” you continued, a little more quietly this time. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, and I don’t want to add to it. But I appreciate you helping me.”
Logan turned, his gaze locking onto yours. There was something in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite place. For a second, you thought he might say something, but then he just gave a slow nod.
“Don’t worry about it, Y/N,” he finally said. “If you need somethin’, I’ll be around.”
He turned and walked out the door, leaving you standing in your kitchen, staring after him. You exhaled, feeling a mix of confusion and warmth.
Later that evening, as you cleaned up and prepared for the next day’s lessons, you couldn’t stop replaying the interaction in your head. Logan’s quietness, his willingness to help, Laura’s knowing smiles. There was something stirring there, something more than just neighborly concern.
But you pushed the thoughts aside, reminding yourself of the practicalities. Logan was a single dad with a complicated past, and you… well, you had your own life to focus on. This wasn’t the time to start overthinking things.
Still, as you drifted off to sleep that night, the image of Logan fixing your sink—focused, calm, and oddly comforting—stayed with you.
---
You’ve never liked storms. You’re not sure why, you grew up in Houston where it rained consistently and encountered a few hurricanes.
But when you turned 18, you went to college further north in Texas, getting away from the rain and finally getting sunshine and real heat, not humid heat.
It never rained much in the north of Minnesota, but when it did rain, it rained a lot. So much so that the school cancelled classes for the rest of the week.
You could use the time to catch up on grading assignments, but instead you found yourself barely able to keep your attention on the TV, flinching every time you heard thunder.
The storm outside raged on, lightning flashing every few seconds, followed by the rumble of thunder that rattled the windows. You glanced at the stack of papers you’d set aside to grade, but your mind just wasn’t in it.
“Why does it always feel worse at night?” you muttered, sinking deeper into the couch, trying to focus on the TV.
Then, a knock at the door startled you. You weren’t expecting anyone, especially with the weather this bad.
You got up, hesitating for a second before opening the door to reveal Laura, soaked from head to toe, holding a small flashlight.
“Laura? What are you doing out here?” you asked, eyes wide with concern.
“Our power went out,” she explained quickly, shivering slightly. “Daddy said I could come over here since your lights are still on.”
You frowned, glancing past her toward Logan’s house, which was barely visible in the heavy rain. “Is your dad coming over too?”
Laura shrugged, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “He said he’d figure it out.”
You closed the door behind her, grabbing a towel from the bathroom and handing it to her. “You should’ve just called, you know. I would’ve come to get you.”
Laura gave you a small smile as she dried off. “It’s fine. I didn’t want to wait.”
You shook your head, unable to suppress a smile at her stubbornness. “Of course you didn’t.”
The two of you sat in the living room for a while, Laura settling into the corner of the couch with her legs tucked under her, still glancing out the window at the storm every so often.
“How long’s the power been out?” you asked after a few minutes.
“Since just after dinner,” she replied. “Daddy was gonna try and fix it, but he said it might take a while.”
You nodded, already feeling a little guilty. If the power didn’t come back on soon, you’d probably end up with both of them staying over. Not that you minded, but it was one of those situations where you didn’t want to impose. Especially with Logan.
Almost on cue, there was another knock at the door, this one heavier, more deliberate.
You didn’t even have to look to know it was Logan.
You opened the door to find him standing there, drenched like Laura had been. His hair was plastered to his head, and his usual gruff expression was softened slightly by the rain dripping from his face.
“Come on in,” you said quickly, stepping aside.
Logan entered, shaking off some of the rain before giving you a nod. “Thanks. Power’s out, and I don’t think it’s comin’ back anytime soon.”
You closed the door behind him and offered him a towel, which he accepted without a word. He glanced over at Laura, who had made herself comfortable on the couch, and then back at you.
“You alright with us bein’ here?” he asked, his voice low but genuine.
“Of course,” you replied, waving it off. “I’m not gonna let you sit in the dark with no heat.”
Logan nodded, though there was something in his eyes—something like gratitude, though he didn’t voice it.
The three of you sat in the living room for a while, the storm still raging outside. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable silence, but it wasn’t awkward either. Just... quiet. Logan wasn’t one for small talk, and Laura seemed content just to be around people, her gaze flicking back and forth between you and her dad.
As the night wore on, the storm didn’t let up, and Laura’s eyelids started to droop. You glanced at the clock, noting how late it was getting.
“You’re welcome to stay the night,” you offered, glancing between them. “It’s still coming down pretty hard out there, and I don’t think the power’s coming back on soon.”
Laura perked up at the suggestion, but Logan hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “We’ll be fine,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t wanna impose.”
“You’re not imposing,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “There’s a guest bedroom, and I’ve got blankets. Besides, I’m not letting either of you walk back in this mess.”
Laura, sensing her opportunity, chimed in before Logan could object. “I want to stay,” she said quietly, her eyes big and hopeful.
Logan sighed, glancing at his daughter, clearly torn. “Laura…”
“Daddy, it’s still storming,” she added, her voice soft but insistent. “We can stay, right?”
You jumped in before he could refuse. “It’s no trouble, Logan. Really. Laura can take the guest bedroom, and I can sleep on the couch.”
Logan gave you a skeptical look. “You’re not sleepin’ on the couch in your own house.”
You rolled your eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It’s your bed,” he grunted. “I’ll take the couch.”
Before you could argue, Laura piped up again, her voice full of innocent mischief. “You could both sleep in the bed.”
Your eyes widened, and you quickly glanced at Logan, whose expression had shifted to one of slight surprise.
“Laura,” you started, but she just shrugged, clearly enjoying this more than she should have been.
“What?” she said innocently. “It’s a big bed.”
Logan sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You’re not helpin’, kid.”
Laura just grinned, her eyes gleaming with quiet victory. “I think I am.”
You cleared your throat, trying to regain control of the situation. “I’m fine with sleepin’ on the couch, really. Can’t really sleep when it’s stormin’ anyways.”
Laura, still lounging on the couch, piped up again, her grin growing wider. “You could just share the bed.”
Your face flushed, and you shot her a look. “Laura—”
“What?” She shrugged, playing innocent, but you could see the hint of mischief in her eyes.
Logan sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Kid, stop messin’ around.”
She held up her hands in surrender, but the teasing smile on her face didn’t budge. “I’m just saying it’s an option.”
You shook your head, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “Laura, you’re gonna sleep in the guest room. I’ll be on the couch. End of story.”
Laura rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “Fine.”
Logan glanced at you, his eyes softening for a brief moment before he muttered, “You sure about this? I don’t wanna take your bed.”
You waved him off, trying to sound casual. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Just get some rest. You’ve been out in the rain long enough.”
He hesitated for a second, then gave a small nod. “Alright. But only because you won’t stop arguin’.”
“Exactly,” you said, smiling a little as you grabbed an extra blanket from the hallway closet and tossed it to Laura. “You can get settled in the guest room, kiddo.”
Laura caught the blanket and headed toward the guest room with a little bounce in her step, clearly pleased with how things were turning out. You watched her disappear down the hallway before turning back to Logan, who was still standing in the living room, looking somewhat out of place.
“You can leave your wet clothes by the door if you want,” you offered, trying to keep things normal, even though the situation felt anything but.
Logan gave a quiet grunt of acknowledgment, pulling off his soaked jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair. He moved slowly, like he was still debating whether to argue about the sleeping arrangements again, but thankfully, he didn’t.
After a minute, he glanced back at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You really are stubborn, you know that?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Takes one to know one.”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he walked past you toward your bedroom. “Fair enough.”
Once he disappeared into the room, you let out a small sigh, running a hand through your hair. This was... not how you expected your night to go. Sharing your house with both Logan and Laura during a storm, with Laura sneakily playing matchmaker. It was almost funny, if not for the fact that Logan being this close made your heart race a little too much for comfort.
You settled back onto the couch, pulling a blanket over yourself and staring at the TV screen without really watching it. The sound of rain pounding against the windows and the occasional crack of thunder filled the quiet, but it was hard to focus on the storm when you knew Logan was in the next room.
Laura had probably planned this all along.
You glanced toward the hallway where the guest room was, wondering if she was already asleep—or if she was lying there, scheming her next move.
Thunder broke you out of your thoughts, making you flinch slightly under the blankets.
You settled deeper into the couch, but sleep wasn’t coming any easier despite the exhaustion from the day. Your mind kept wandering, mostly back to Logan and how natural it had started to feel having him and Laura around. Maybe a little too natural.
A sharp crack of thunder rattled the windows, and you flinched again, instinctively pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. You’d thought you were getting used to storms, but this one was relentless, dragging on with no signs of easing up.
Just when you started to think you’d be up all night, you heard the soft creak of the floorboards behind you. You turned, expecting to see Laura coming out of the guest room, but instead, Logan stood there in the dim light of the living room, looking as uncomfortable as you felt.
“Can’t sleep?” you asked, your voice quiet but steady, despite the storm.
He shrugged, leaning against the doorway. “Not used to sleepin’ anywhere but my own bed.”
You nodded, biting back a knowing smile. “Yeah, I get that. Storm’s not helping much either.”
Logan’s eyes flicked to the window, then back to you. His gaze was a little softer than usual, like the storm had taken some of the edge off his usual roughness. “You alright? Heard you jumpin’ every time the thunder hits.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to brush off his concern. “It’s nothing. Just... not a fan of storms.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” Logan said, stepping further into the room. He hesitated for a moment, then moved to sit on the armrest of the couch, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. “Don’t have to tough it out, y’know.”
You looked up at him, caught off guard by the gentleness in his tone. It wasn’t like Logan to be this open, to offer any sort of comfort. He usually kept things buried under layers of gruffness and distance.
“Guess I’m just used to toughing it out,” you said softly, offering him a small smile.
Logan studied you for a moment, his eyes flicking over your face, like he was weighing his next words carefully. “You don’t always have to. Not with us.”
The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. You weren’t sure what to say. This side of Logan—the quiet, protective side—was something you’d only seen glimpses of before, but tonight, it was like the storm had brought down some of his walls.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” you finally said, but your voice lacked its usual conviction.
“Not worryin’,” Logan replied, his gaze steady. “Just statin’ a fact.”
The thunder rolled again, quieter this time, as if the storm was finally starting to let up. Logan’s eyes lingered on you for a beat longer, before he stood up, looking like he was about to head back to the bedroom.
But then he paused, glancing over his shoulder. “If you want... there’s room in the bed.”
Your breath hitched, and you blinked up at him, not sure if you heard him right. “What?”
Logan’s lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile, but his expression remained serious. “I ain’t suggestin’ what Laura was earlier,” he muttered, a little embarrassed. “Just... if it helps you sleep better, I don’t mind. Couch’s not exactly comfortable.”
Your heart thudded in your chest, caught off guard by the unexpected offer. Logan wasn’t the type to offer comfort lightly, and the idea of sharing a bed with him—platonically or not—made your pulse quicken.
“I—” You faltered, unsure how to respond. But something in the way he was looking at you made it clear this wasn’t just about the storm or being polite. This was about something more—something that had been quietly building between the two of you for a while now.
Before you could overthink it, you nodded. “Okay.”
Logan’s eyebrows raised slightly, surprised by your answer. He stepped aside as you stood, grabbing the blanket from the couch. Neither of you said anything as you walked down the hallway to your bedroom, the tension thick but not uncomfortable—more like an understanding had settled between you.
Once inside, Logan shifted awkwardly as you took your side of the bed, pulling the blanket over yourself, trying to act like this was normal, like your heart wasn’t racing in your chest. Logan laid down on the opposite side, keeping a respectful distance, though the bed felt smaller with him in it.
The sound of the rain outside softened, though the occasional rumble of thunder still rolled in the distance. You stared at the ceiling, hyper-aware of Logan beside you, the space between you feeling charged.
“You good?” Logan asked after a minute, his voice low in the quiet.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m good.”
A beat passed. Then another.
“Thanks,” you added, not just for offering the bed, but for being there, for not making this weird.
Logan turned his head slightly to look at you, his eyes soft in the dim light. “Ain’t nothin’.”
But it was something. It was a lot, actually.
You both lay there in silence for a while, the sound of the rain becoming almost soothing. You could feel the warmth of him next to you, solid and reassuring, and slowly, the tightness in your chest began to ease.
Just as your eyes started to drift closed, Logan’s voice broke the silence again, so quiet you almost missed it.
“I meant what I said earlier,” he murmured, his voice gruff but sincere. “You don’t have to do this on your own. Not with us around.”
Your heart swelled, a mix of emotions you weren’t quite ready to confront just yet. You didn’t know what to say, so instead, you reached out, your hand brushing against his in the small space between you.
Logan didn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers curled gently around yours, his grip warm and steady.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, you fell asleep without flinching at the sound of thunder.
---
You woke up to the sound of soft rain pattering against the window, the storm from last night finally easing up. For a second, you forgot where you were, until you felt the weight of the blanket and the warmth of another presence next to you. Logan. His steady breathing filled the quiet space, and you shifted slightly, careful not to wake him.
This was new.
You glanced over at him, his face relaxed in sleep, the tension he usually carried nowhere to be found. It was strange seeing him like this—calm, almost peaceful. You could feel the residual warmth from his hand where he’d held yours last night, and the memory made your chest tighten.
Carefully, you slipped out of bed, not wanting to disturb the rare moment of quiet. You padded out into the hallway, stopping by Laura’s room to peek in. She was still asleep, wrapped up in blankets, her small body barely a lump under the covers.
You smiled to yourself, already suspecting that she had something to do with last night’s sleeping arrangements. Laura was too clever for her own good sometimes.
In the kitchen, you started brewing coffee, the scent filling the small space. As you waited for it to finish, you found yourself staring out the window, your mind still on Logan. Last night had been... unexpected. But not unwelcome. The way he’d stayed close, offering comfort without making a big deal out of it—it meant more than you wanted to admit.
The soft creak of footsteps behind you pulled you out of your thoughts.
“You’re up early,” Logan’s gravelly voice broke the quiet.
You turned to see him leaning against the doorway, his hair still a little mussed from sleep, but otherwise looking much like his usual self.
“Couldn’t sleep much after the storm,” you shrugged, offering him a small smile. “Coffee?”
“Yeah,” he grunted, moving to sit at the kitchen table. “Thanks.”
You poured two mugs, setting one in front of him before taking a seat across from him. For a moment, neither of you spoke, just sipping your coffee in the comfortable silence that had settled between you.
Logan glanced at you over the rim of his mug, his eyes softer than usual. “You sleep alright?”
You hesitated, remembering how easily you’d fallen asleep next to him. “Better than I expected, honestly.”
He grunted in acknowledgment, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Guess the storm wasn’t as bad as you thought.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck. “Or maybe it was the company.”
Logan’s smirk widened slightly, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning the kitchen before settling on you again. “Thanks for lettin’ us stay. Laura didn’t give you much choice, huh?”
“She didn’t have to,” you replied with a shrug. “I wasn’t gonna let either of you stay in a freezing house with no power.”
Logan nodded, his eyes drifting to the window. “Power should be back on soon. I’ll head back once it’s up.”
You didn’t say anything, but part of you felt a pang of disappointment at the thought of him leaving so soon. You hadn’t had many moments like this—quiet, with just the two of you—and you found yourself wanting it to last a little longer.
Laura’s quiet footsteps broke the silence as she padded into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes sleepily.
“Mornin’, kid,” Logan greeted her.
“Mornin’,” Laura mumbled, glancing between the two of you with a knowing look before plopping down at the table. “Is the power back on yet?”
“Not yet,” you said, trying to ignore the way she was eyeing you and Logan.
Laura just shrugged, grabbing the cereal box from the counter and helping herself. “Guess we’re stuck here a little longer, huh?”
You shot her a look, but she didn’t seem fazed, her focus on her cereal. It was hard to tell if she was playing innocent or if she was just that good at pretending.
“So, what’s the plan for today?” you asked, trying to shift the conversation.
Laura perked up at that. “You said you’d help me with my English homework, remember?”
You blinked. “I—uh, right. Yeah, I did say that.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, looking at Laura. “Since when do you need help with English?”
Laura shot him a quick look before turning back to you, all smiles. “I figured Ms. Aberra would be better at explaining it than you.”
You narrowed your eyes at her, starting to catch on. “I’m sure you’re doing fine in English, Laura.”
She shrugged, playing with her spoon. “Yeah, but it’s better when someone explains it.”
Logan just shook his head, clearly not buying it either, but he didn’t say anything, letting Laura’s little game play out.
“Well,” you said, getting up from the table. “I guess we can take a look at it after breakfast.”
Laura grinned, clearly pleased with how things were going. “Thanks, Ms. Aberra.”
You smiled back, even though you knew something was up. Sure, you had been helping her with English homework for a while now, but she didn’t need the help. When she would show you her essays or answers to questions about a reading, they were always perfect. Still, you played along, grabbing your coffee and heading toward the living room.
“Alright,” you said, glancing over your shoulder at her. “Go grab your stuff, and we’ll take a look.”
Laura jumped up, cereal forgotten, and dashed off to retrieve her things. You settled onto the couch, sipping your coffee and trying to push aside the strange feeling that this was part of something bigger. But what?
Logan followed you into the living room, sitting down in the worn armchair opposite you. He gave you a look—one eyebrow slightly raised, lips set in that half-smirk he sometimes wore when he was figuring someone out.
“She really roped you into this, huh?” he asked, voice low and rough.
You shrugged, trying to seem casual. “It’s not a big deal. I’m used to kids asking for help with schoolwork.”
“Yeah, but Laura? She doesn’t ask for help unless she’s got some kind of angle.”
You laughed softly, but the truth of his words settled somewhere in the back of your mind. Laura wasn’t just a smart kid—she was calculating. You’d seen it in class and at home. The way she observed things, the way she always seemed to know what was going on, even when no one said a word.
“I guess I’ll find out,” you said, leaning back into the couch.
Before Logan could reply, Laura returned, a small notebook and a pencil in hand. She sat beside you, flipping it open to a random page. You glanced at the page, immediately noticing that it was filled with neat, almost perfect handwriting. The essay she’d written didn’t have a single correction or revision mark.
“Alright,” you began, pretending you didn’t see the perfection in front of you. “What do you need help with?”
Laura handed the notebook over, her face perfectly serious. “I just wanted to know if the introduction’s strong enough.”
You skimmed through the first paragraph, and honestly, it was better than anything you’d expect from a sixth grader. If anything, it felt more like she was testing you than asking for actual feedback.
“It’s good,” you said slowly. “Your thesis is clear, and you have a strong opening sentence. You might want to make the transition to your first point a little smoother, but overall, it’s solid.”
Laura nodded thoughtfully, pretending to make a note in her notebook. You watched her for a moment, trying to figure out what game she was playing. There was no way she needed your help, but for some reason, she wanted you here. And Logan, too.
Logan just sat quietly, watching the two of you like he wasn’t quite sure what was happening either. His hand rested on the arm of the chair, fingers tapping lightly. You could feel his presence, steady and grounding, even when he wasn’t saying anything.
Laura glanced at her dad. “Ms. Aberra’s a pretty good teacher, don’t you think?”
Logan’s eyes flicked to you, his smirk back in full force. “Yeah, I’d say so.”
You gave Laura a suspicious look. “You’re not just buttering me up for extra credit, are you?”
Laura’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “No. I just like the way you explain things.”
“Mhm.” You weren’t buying it, but it was hard not to laugh.
The quiet hung between you all for a moment, just the sound of the rain outside and the occasional scrape of Laura’s pencil against her notebook. It felt… peaceful, despite the nagging feeling that something was going on beneath the surface.
“Alright, well,” you finally said, pushing yourself up from the couch. “Looks like you’ve got this handled, Laura. I don’t think you need much help.”
Laura blinked up at you, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks anyway.”
You caught the look she sent Logan’s way, and suddenly, it clicked. She didn’t need your help with homework—she was just trying to get you to stick around a little longer. Maybe even trying to give you and Logan more time together.
Smart kid.
Logan, of course, said nothing, just watching you with that unreadable expression he wore so well. You could never quite tell what he was thinking, and it both frustrated and intrigued you.
"So," Laura said suddenly, breaking the quiet. "What’s the plan today?"
You glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "You’re the one with the notebook full of perfect essays. I thought you had plans."
Laura grinned at that, not even trying to hide it anymore. "I was thinking we could all go out for lunch. Since we’re stuck here."
Logan gave her a look, but didn’t say anything, clearly seeing through her. You stifled a laugh, playing along. "Lunch, huh? You paying?"
Laura shrugged, looking way too pleased with herself. "I’ll ask nicely. Maybe you’ll cover it."
You shook your head, pretending to think it over. "Might be able to swing it."
Logan snorted. "Real generous of you."
"Hey, I’m a teacher. Gotta budget wisely," you shot back, smirking at him.
Laura just smiled, clearly happy with how things were going, and it hit you again—she was definitely playing matchmaker. Subtle, but it was there. Not that you minded. Spending more time with Logan wasn’t exactly a hardship.
Logan leaned back in his chair, his eyes still on you, though. "You’re sure you don’t mind us hanging around?"
You tilted your head, genuinely surprised. "Logan, if I minded, I wouldn’t have let you in. You’re both always welcome here."
For a second, he looked like he was going to argue, but then he just gave a slow nod, like he was accepting it—maybe even appreciating it, though he’d never say that out loud. "Thanks."
You shrugged, trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal, even though you knew it kind of was. "Don’t mention it."
Laura got up, stretching her arms over her head before grabbing her empty bowl. "I’ll go get ready for lunch then," she said, already heading to the sink. "I’m starving."
You watched her go, then turned back to Logan, raising an eyebrow. "Think we’ve got time for that before the power comes back on?"
Logan shrugged, his smirk returning. "Could be out a while longer."
"Convenient," you muttered, though there was no real bite to it.
Logan chuckled, a low, rough sound that made something in your chest tighten. He set his empty mug on the coffee table and stood up, stretching slightly. "Guess we better make sure the kid doesn’t eat the place out of food while we wait."
You laughed, following him into the kitchen. The dynamic between the three of you felt easy now, comfortable in a way that surprised you. Even with Laura’s not-so-subtle attempts at matchmaking, there was something natural about how you and Logan were around each other. It wasn’t rushed or forced. Just... right.
Laura appeared from the hallway, already dressed and tugging on her jacket. "Ready when you are," she said, a little too cheerfully.
Logan gave her a look. "We haven’t even decided where we’re going."
"I’ll leave that up to the grown-ups," she said, grabbing her shoes.
You exchanged a glance with Logan, both of you clearly thinking the same thing: this kid was way too clever for her own good. But neither of you called her out on it.
"Alright," Logan finally said, grabbing his jacket. "Let’s get going before the power comes back and ruins her plan."
Laura grinned but didn’t say anything, grabbing your hand as you all headed out into the damp, cool air. The rain had finally stopped, but the sky was still overcast, a soft, gray light filtering through the clouds.
You walked beside Logan, Laura skipping a few steps ahead, her eyes darting around like she was taking everything in. She was always like that—watching, observing. And now you knew why. She was playing a long game, slowly pushing you and Logan closer together, little by little.
You couldn’t help but smile. She was good. Really good.
And maybe, just maybe, you were starting to appreciate her efforts.
---
The school did something special for parents on Valentine’s Day. Instead of just handing out donuts or cupcakes, they did a competition.
There was different challenges for each couple, or pairing, to finish, and to make it even better, their kids would have to guide them on certain challenges, like walking blindfolded to the finish line on the field.
Emma glanced over at you as you were going through the list of parent’s names, making sure everyone had a partner. There were a few single parents, so you had to figure out who they should be paired with. But there was an odd number, one parent would have to sit out.
“So… who’s sitting out?” Emma asked, leaning on the desk next to you. She had that casual curiosity in her tone, but you knew she was just as invested in making sure things ran smoothly as you were.
You chewed your lip, staring at the list. “Looks like we’ve got one extra parent. I’m not sure yet.”
Emma peeked over your shoulder, scanning the names. “What about Logan?”
You paused, looking at the list. Logan’s name was there, as was Laura’s, but you hesitated. He wasn’t exactly the type to jump into school events, especially one that involved blindfolds and teamwork. And while he’d been involved in Laura’s life, you weren’t sure he’d want to participate in something like this.
“Yeah, guess he can sit out. We have an odd number of parents anyways.” You put down the clipboard and looked at the empty donut box, “I’ll be right back. Gonna go to the other room and get another box.”
As you moved toward the door, you noticed Laura sitting quietly in the corner, fiddling with her notebook, watching everything with that usual sharpness in her eyes. She had been quiet all morning, almost too quiet. You gave her a smile before heading to the break room, still feeling a little awkward about pairing up the parents.
Emma stayed behind, her eyes flicking between you and Laura, a slight smirk tugging at her lips like she was onto something.
You weaved through the hallway, your mind still on the whole situation. These parent events were always a little tricky when it came to single parents. You knew Logan wasn’t exactly the type to jump into the school scene, especially for something like a Valentine’s Day competition, but you couldn’t help but think maybe he’d want to give it a shot for Laura.
Grabbing the donut box, you paused for a second. The idea of Logan being there today, paired up with someone else, didn’t sit right. Not that you had any reason to feel that way. It was just... Logan. You weren’t even sure if he’d show up.
When you returned to the room, Laura was still sitting there, now scribbling something in her notebook. She glanced up as you entered, her expression neutral but her eyes watching you closely.
“Everything okay?” you asked, setting the fresh box on the table and moving to grab the clipboard again.
Laura nodded. “Yeah, just thinking.”
“Thinking about the competition?” You smiled, trying to make conversation, but she just gave you a vague shrug.
“Something like that.”
Emma glanced at you, her smirk still there as she made a little noise of amusement. “Logan didn’t strike me as the ‘competition’ type. But who knows?”
You shot her a look, but before you could respond, the door swung open, and Logan walked in. Speak of the devil. He looked around, taking in the sight of parents getting ready, kids buzzing with excitement. His eyes landed on you, and he gave a short nod, his usual gruff greeting.
“You’re here,” you said, surprised, trying to keep your voice casual. “Didn’t think you’d make it.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, his hands in his pockets. “Laura signed us up. Thought I’d better show.”
Laura, sitting nearby, perked up but kept her face mostly neutral. She wasn’t about to blow her cover, not yet anyway.
“Right,” you said, glancing down at the clipboard. “Well, there’s an odd number of parents, so... I was thinking maybe you’d sit out.”
Laura, quick as ever, jumped in. “Or you could partner with someone else.”
You blinked at her, caught off guard. “Well, yeah, I guess, but we don’t really have—”
“You could partner with Daddy.” Laura said it so simply, like it wasn’t a big deal, like she hadn’t been plotting this for weeks.
Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced between the two of you, clearly realizing what his daughter was doing, but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, waiting for your reaction.
You stammered a bit, caught completely off guard. “I—I don’t know if that’s a good idea...”
Laura gave you a look, one that said she knew exactly what she was doing. “It’s just for the competition. Besides, it’ll be fun.”
Logan’s gaze flicked to you again, and this time, there was a slight smirk on his face. “It’s just a game, right? We’ll survive.”
Emma, watching the whole thing play out, was trying very hard not to laugh. “Looks like you’re stuck with Logan, Y/N.”
You felt a wave of heat rise in your cheeks. It was one thing to think about spending time with Logan, but being thrown into a school competition with him—especially with Laura being the mastermind behind it—was another.
“Okay, fine,” you muttered, trying to act like this wasn’t a big deal at all. “I guess we’ll partner up.”
Logan just gave a nonchalant shrug. “Let’s get this over with.”
Laura’s eyes practically sparkled with victory as she hopped up from her seat, already heading toward the field where the first challenge would take place. You followed, trying to shake off the awkwardness, but it was impossible with Logan right next to you.
As you reached the field, the first task was announced: a three-legged race. Of course. Out of all the challenges, it had to be this one. You glanced over at Logan, who was already eyeing the ropes being handed out for the pairs to tie their legs together.
"This should be interesting," Logan muttered under his breath, taking one of the ropes and holding it out for you.
You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your nerves behind a smile. "I feel like this is a recipe for disaster."
Logan’s lips quirked into a smirk. "Only if you don’t keep up."
"Me?" You chuckled, shaking your head as you bent down to tie the rope around your ankle and his. "You’re the one with the bum leg."
Logan grunted, not arguing, though his usual swagger was still intact. "I’ll manage."
Laura stood off to the side, watching with a faint smile, clearly enjoying the show. You could tell she was pleased with herself, and part of you was too, even if you were trying to act like this was no big deal.
"Alright, ready?" Logan asked, standing up straighter after securing the rope.
"As I’ll ever be," you replied, trying to gauge the best way to navigate the race without falling flat on your face.
The whistle blew, and before you knew it, you were awkwardly hopping forward, one leg bound to Logan’s as you tried to find some sort of rhythm. The first few steps were disastrous—Logan’s longer strides making it nearly impossible for you to keep pace without stumbling.
"Slow down!" you laughed, grabbing his arm to steady yourself as you nearly tripped.
Logan smirked, his hand quickly coming to your waist to keep you from toppling over. "You gotta move faster than that, Y/N."
"Or maybe you need to move slower!" you shot back, trying to adjust your steps to match his. After a few shaky moments, you finally found a rhythm, the two of you moving in sync—well, mostly. Logan’s hand lingered at your waist, steadying you as you both half-hopped, half-laughed your way toward the finish line.
"Not bad," Logan grunted as you crossed the line, not quite first, but definitely not last either.
"Not bad?" You shot him a look, still a little breathless from laughing. "I’m pretty sure we almost face-planted three times."
"Could’ve been worse," he replied with a shrug, that smirk of his still in place.
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny the way your heart was still racing—though you weren’t sure if it was from the race or from the fact that Logan had kept his arm around your waist longer than necessary.
Laura, waiting at the sidelines, gave you both a knowing look as you untied the rope. "You guys were pretty good," she commented casually, though the glint in her eyes said otherwise.
"Pretty good?" you echoed, shooting her a playful glare. "We almost ate dirt, Laura."
Logan grunted in agreement but didn’t say much, just shaking his head as he rubbed his leg a bit. You noticed the slight grimace that flashed across his face—something you hadn’t seen often, but it was there for just a moment before he covered it up.
"Next challenge is... egg balancing," Emma announced from the other end of the field, holding up a spoon and a carton of eggs.
You and Logan exchanged a look, and you couldn’t help but laugh. "Oh, this’ll be fun."
Logan just sighed, clearly less than thrilled about the prospect of trying to balance an egg on a spoon, but he didn’t protest. You handed him one of the spoons as you lined up for the next round.
"You got a steady hand?" you teased, raising an eyebrow at him.
Logan glanced at the spoon, then back at you. "Steadier than yours, probably."
"Let’s see about that," you shot back, placing the egg carefully on your spoon. The whistle blew, and you both started across the field, trying to keep the fragile eggs from toppling off. You had to admit, Logan had a surprising amount of focus for a guy who usually looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.
"Not bad for an old man," you joked, glancing over at him as you both carefully moved toward the finish line.
"Careful, Y/N. That’s how you get egg on your face," Logan muttered, but you could hear the amusement in his voice.
Just as you were nearing the end, Laura darted over, watching closely. "Come on, you guys can do it!"
It was hard to ignore the pride in her voice—she was definitely enjoying watching you two work together. And maybe, despite the ridiculousness of it all, you were too.
By the time you finished, both of your eggs still intact, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of accomplishment. It was silly, sure, but being paired with Logan for these goofy challenges wasn’t as awkward as you thought it might be. In fact, it was... kind of nice.
"Two for two," Logan said with a smirk, handing his spoon back as the event wrapped up.
"Don’t get too cocky," you replied, bumping his arm lightly as you handed yours in too. "We’ll see how you do with the next one."
Laura appeared beside you again, her eyes bright. "You guys make a good team."
You gave her a sideways glance, trying not to read too much into her words. "Yeah, well, it’s all about teamwork, right?"
Logan didn’t say anything, but his eyes met yours for a brief moment, and there was something there—something unspoken that made your heart skip a beat.
The rest of the day went by in a blur of silly games and laughter, and by the time the event was over, you were exhausted, but in the best way possible. Logan had stayed the whole time, never complaining or trying to bow out early. Laura, of course, was thrilled with how things had turned out, and you couldn’t help but feel like she had succeeded in whatever plan she had been cooking up.
As the parents and kids started to trickle out of the school, you found yourself standing beside Logan near the door. Laura had already run ahead to grab her things, leaving the two of you alone for a moment.
"Thanks for sticking around," you said, glancing up at him. "I know this probably wasn’t your idea of a fun day."
Logan shrugged, his usual nonchalant expression in place. "Wasn’t so bad."
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "Well, I’m glad you came. Laura seemed to really enjoy it."
"Yeah," Logan agreed, his gaze softening slightly as he looked in the direction where Laura had run off. "She’s a good kid."
"She is," you said, nodding. "And she’s lucky to have you."
Logan didn’t respond right away, but after a moment, he gave a small nod. "Thanks."
There was a brief silence between you, the air charged with something unspoken but palpable. Before you could say anything else, Laura came bounding back, her backpack slung over one shoulder.
"Ready to go?" she asked, looking between the two of you with that same knowing glint in her eyes.
"Yeah," Logan said, ruffling her hair lightly. "Let’s get outta here."
As they started to head for the door, Logan paused, glancing back at you. "See you around, Y/N."
"Yeah," you replied, feeling your heart skip again. "See you around, Logan."
---
It had been a few days since the Valentine’s Day event, and things had settled back into routine. You were sitting in your living room, halfway through grading papers, when there was a knock on your door.
Opening it, you found Logan standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, looking slightly out of place.
"Hey," he greeted, voice low. "Laura wanted me to ask if you'd join us for dinner tonight. Nothing fancy. Just... thought it’d be nice."
You blinked, surprised by the invitation. Logan wasn’t exactly the type to invite people over casually, but something about the way he stood there, slightly awkward, made your heart skip a beat.
"Sure," you said, smiling. "I’d like that."
Dinner at Logan’s place was unexpectedly warm. Laura set the table with care, and you found yourself laughing more than you expected as Logan recounted some old stories about his past. The tension that usually simmered between you felt different tonight—softer, like you were slowly crossing an invisible line you’d both been careful to avoid.
As you helped clear the dishes, your hand brushed against Logan’s, and the brief contact made you pause. He glanced at you, and for a moment, neither of you moved. It was like a quiet acknowledgment of something building between you.
“Thanks for coming,” he said, his voice low, his gaze lingering just a little too long.
“Anytime,” you replied softly, feeling the weight of his eyes on you as you turned to put the plates away. You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest, but it was hard with Logan standing so close. It was like every time you were around him, you felt like something unspoken hovered between you—something that Laura, in her quiet, clever way, seemed determined to help along.
Laura wandered back into the room, a book in her hands. “Y/N, can you help me with my English homework?” she asked, holding it up and glancing between you and Logan like she hadn’t just interrupted a moment.
You blinked, turning to her with a small smile. “Of course, I can take a look.”
“Great!” Laura said, her voice a little too cheerful. She plopped down on the couch and spread her notebook and book out in front of her. “It’s this essay I’ve got to write.”
Logan lingered by the kitchen counter, his eyes flicking to Laura’s book with an expression you couldn’t quite read. “I’ll leave you two to it, then,” he muttered, and before you could say anything, he was stepping outside, probably to get some fresh air or give you and Laura some space.
You turned your attention back to Laura, still smiling but a bit confused. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got here.”
Laura launched into an explanation, talking about a character analysis she needed to do for class. As you glanced over her notes, though, it struck you that everything was pretty much perfect. Her sentences were clear, her argument made sense, and she’d clearly put a lot of thought into it. Like always, it was perfect.
“Laura… this is really good,” you said slowly, giving her an impressed look. “I don’t think you need help with this.”
Laura’s face stayed impassive, but you caught a faint hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Just wanted to make sure it was okay,” she said casually, glancing in the direction Logan had gone.
Something clicked then, and you had to suppress a chuckle. So this was just another one of Laura’s little schemes to get you to stick around. You were starting to see the pattern—tiny excuses to keep you close, to get you and Logan in the same room more often. It was subtle, but now that you were catching on, it was impossible to miss.
“Well, your essay’s great,” you said, folding your arms as you gave her a knowing look. “But I think there’s more going on here than just English homework.”
Laura’s gaze stayed steady on yours, and for a moment, you could see a glimpse of something deeper in those eyes—something far beyond her years. “He’s lonely,” she said quietly, so softly that you almost missed it.
Your heart gave a small squeeze at that. It was true that Logan always seemed like a man on the outskirts of everything, never quite fitting in. And you knew he and Laura had been through a lot together, more than most people could imagine. But he wasn’t exactly the type to talk about his feelings—or admit he might need someone else in his life.
“Maybe,” you replied gently, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “But that’s something he has to figure out on his own, okay?”
Laura nodded slowly, but she didn’t look entirely convinced. “He likes you,” she said, blunt as ever. “And you like him.”
Your cheeks heated, and you glanced away, trying to keep your voice steady. It wasn’t the first time Laura has said something like this. “It’s not that simple, Laura.”
“Why not?” she asked, her brow furrowing like she genuinely didn’t understand.
You struggled to find the right words. How could you explain that things with Logan were complicated—that you weren’t sure where you stood with him, or if there was even a place for you in his life beyond being Laura’s teacher? And yet, every time you were near him, there was this pull, this quiet magnetism that made you wonder.
“I just… don’t want to mess things up,” you admitted finally, feeling a little silly for having this conversation with an eleven-year-old.
Laura’s gaze softened, and she reached out to squeeze your hand. “You won’t.”
Before you could respond, the door swung open, and Logan stepped back inside, his gaze immediately going to the two of you. “Everything okay?” he asked, his tone gruff but laced with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint.
“Yeah, we’re good,” you said quickly, trying to push down the strange mix of emotions Laura’s words had stirred up. You stood up, smoothing down your shirt as you gave him a smile. “I should probably get going, though. It’s getting late.”
Logan nodded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that almost looked like disappointment. “I’ll walk you out.”
He led you to the door, and you hesitated for a moment, glancing back at Laura. She gave you a small, encouraging smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.
“Thanks again for coming,” Logan said as he opened the door, his voice a little softer than usual.
“Anytime,” you replied, echoing your earlier words as you stepped outside. The cool night air hit you, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the weight of Logan’s gaze on you.
There was a long pause, the kind that felt like something should be said, but neither of you knew what. You shifted on your feet, biting your lip as you glanced up at him.
“Logan, I—”
“Y/N, I—”
You both spoke at the same time, then paused, sharing a startled laugh.
“You first,” Logan muttered, his lips twitching into a faint smile.
You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I just… I wanted to say that I really enjoyed tonight. And I know Laura’s been… well, playing matchmaker or something,” you added with a chuckle, “but I just want you to know that I’m not—”
“Using her as an excuse to get close?” Logan finished for you, his voice dry but not unkind.
You nodded, feeling a little self-conscious. “Yeah.”
Logan stood there, his eyes steady on yours, and for a moment, you both let the silence fill the space between you. He shifted his weight, his usual stoic expression softening just a bit, and for the first time, it felt like he was truly considering what to say next.
"Look, I know Laura's been trying to push things," he said, his voice low and gruff, but gentler than usual. "She's... smart, too smart sometimes. But this—tonight—it wasn’t just about her."
You blinked, surprised by his admission. You weren’t used to Logan being so open, especially about anything personal. He seemed to read the surprise in your face and let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of his neck like this was harder for him than any physical fight he’d been in.
"What I mean is," he continued, glancing at the ground before his eyes flicked back up to yours, "it’s not just her, Y/N. I didn’t mind tonight. And that’s not something I say often."
Your breath hitched a little at his words, heart beating a little faster. There was a vulnerability in Logan that you weren’t expecting—a side of him that he clearly didn’t let out much, if at all.
"I didn’t mind it either," you said softly, trying to match his tone, to let him know you weren’t taking this lightly. "And Laura... well, she’s got a way of seeing things."
Logan let out a quiet chuckle, a rare sound that caught you off guard. "Yeah, she does. Sometimes I think she’s too smart for her own good." His eyes softened as he spoke about her, a fondness there that made you smile.
"She just wants you to be happy," you said gently. "And, I guess, maybe me too."
Logan looked at you for a long moment, something unspoken passing between you, and for the first time, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was something more here than just a shared concern for Laura. You had always admired Logan’s strength, his quiet loyalty, the way he looked after Laura with such fierce protectiveness. But standing there now, with the night air cool against your skin and Logan’s presence so close, it felt different. More personal.
"You know," Logan said after a long pause, his voice low again, "I don’t exactly have a lot of people in my life. Never been good at that sort of thing. But... you’re good with Laura. And you’re—" He stopped, his jaw tightening for a second like he wasn’t sure if he should say the next part. "You’re good for us."
Your heart thudded in your chest, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you could feel the weight of what he wasn’t saying—the layers beneath that simple statement. You’re good for us. It wasn’t just about being Laura’s teacher anymore. It was about something more.
Your heart thudded in your chest, but you forced a smile to keep things light. “Good for you?” you repeated with a slight chuckle. There was an ache there, something that hinted at how much more those words meant coming from Logan—someone who didn’t let people in easily. The way he looked at you, steady and deliberate, made it hard to brush aside. His eyes held yours a little longer than usual, almost daring you to look away.
"Yeah," he replied, his voice a low rumble, and you couldn’t help but notice how the weight of the night seemed to gather between you, thick in the air. Logan’s usual guarded stance had softened, just enough for you to sense it. He stepped a bit closer, enough that you could feel the faint warmth of him, the earthy scent of cigars and the wild outdoors clinging to his skin.
You shifted on your feet, trying to figure out where this was heading, but the flutter in your chest only grew stronger. Something unspoken seemed to pass between you two, like a current beneath the surface, waiting for one of you to reach down and touch it.
“I think Laura’s got something figured out,” you admitted, voice soft as you kept your eyes on him. “She’s smart enough to see what’s happening here.”
Logan’s lips quirked into a small, barely-there smile. “Yeah, too smart sometimes.” His gaze fell to the ground for a moment, and when he looked back up at you, there was something different there—something raw. “But she’s right. You’re good for us. Hell, you’re good for me.” His words carried a weight, a kind of honesty that took you by surprise, even though deep down, you’d been hoping to hear them for a while.
You swallowed, trying to keep your composure, but your pulse quickened. “Logan, I…” You started to say something—anything—to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat. He was so close now, you could feel the heat radiating off him, and there was a wildness in his eyes that drew you in.
And then, as if some invisible line snapped, Logan took another step toward you, his rough hand reaching out to cup your cheek. His thumb grazed your skin, the touch light but electrifying. “I don’t say things like this often,” he muttered, his voice husky, the growl in it more pronounced now, “but I want you to stay close. For Laura, yeah, but... for me too.”
Your breath hitched as his words sank in, your body reacting to the closeness of him, the way his hand lingered on your cheek. It wasn’t just the softness in his eyes or the tenderness of his touch, but the way he was looking at you, like he was seeing more than just the surface.
“I’ve wanted to stay close,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper, as your hand gently touched his chest. His heartbeat was strong, steady, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, like the pull between you was more than just chemistry.
Logan’s gaze dropped to your lips, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the cool night air, the sound of distant traffic, even the faint light from inside the house. All that mattered was the closeness, the way you could feel his breath mingling with yours.
Before you knew it, Logan was leaning in, and you closed the gap without thinking. His lips pressed against yours, rough and warm, and everything else just melted away. The kiss was slow at first, almost tentative, but then it deepened, and the heat between you flared like wildfire.
His other hand found your waist, pulling you closer against him, and you could feel the solid strength of his body as you pressed into him. The kiss was everything you hadn’t let yourself think about for so long—filled with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface, waiting to spill over.
Logan kissed like he lived—intensely, without holding back. His grip on your waist tightened as if he was afraid to let go, and you responded in kind, threading your fingers into the rough texture of his hair. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing; just the two of you, connected in this raw, unexpected moment.
When you finally pulled back, breathless, you both stood there for a moment, neither of you saying anything. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and Logan’s forehead rested against yours, his breath still ragged.
“I—” you started to speak, but he cut you off, his voice low and hoarse.
“Don’t,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly. “Don’t ruin it with words, not yet.”
You nodded, biting back whatever thought was trying to escape. The night air felt cooler now, the warmth of Logan’s body contrasting sharply against it, grounding you in the moment. His hand lingered on your waist, thumb brushing your side, and you could feel the slight tremor in his fingers, like even he was surprised by what just happened.
After a long silence, he finally spoke, voice quieter than before. “Didn’t think this’d happen,” he admitted, almost to himself.
You gave a soft laugh, still trying to catch your breath. “Me either.”
His lips quirked into the faintest of smiles, and he shifted slightly, his hand moving from your waist to gently brush your cheek. The gesture was so uncharacteristically tender for him that it made your heart twist a little.
For a moment, you both just stood there, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between you. Part of you wanted to step back, to put some distance between you and Logan, to give yourself a chance to think. But another part—the stronger part—wanted to stay right where you were, feeling the warmth of his hand on your skin, the rough edge of his thumb grazing your cheek.
Meanwhile, Laura peeked through the blinds, a smile spreading across her face.
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tags: @freythecrazyfae
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a-b-riddle · 7 months ago
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Part Five
Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)
You call Meredith when you get home.
You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.
How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.
"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."
"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"
"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."
"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.
"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."
"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."
"That works."
"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."
It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.
"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.
"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."
The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.
Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.
But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.
You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.
You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.
Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.
“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...
“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”
"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"
"You won't return any of our messages."
"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."
"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.
"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.
Dammit.
"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."
"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.
"Why not?" He countered.
“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”
He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.
You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.
God...
That felt good.
You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...
You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.
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nightmare-niko · 2 months ago
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Pretty When You Cry [Father Charlie Mayhew x reader]
pt. 2
Word Count: 1916
Warnings: manhandling, kinda munch! Charlie, one slap, mean! Dom Charlie, blasphemy (they fuck in the church😬)
A/N: not my gifs! I have the originals reblogged on my page😘 this was actually already being written and then I got an anon request for basically exactly what I was already writing!! Hope ya like it hehe 🙃 i also dont really ever write like this kind of smut so i hope i did good!!
Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.
You weren't a religious person by any means. But staying the night at your parents had you up early, trying to find the most church-appropriate outfit. of course, your parents failed to tell you that they were planning on bringing you along to church. Your skirt was a bit too short. But it is not like you had room to complain with such short notice!
You remember going to high school with Father Charlie— or as you knew him Charlie. The two of you didn't run with the same crowds-- but you knew each other.
Now, here you were. Paying no attention to the words coming from his mouth and all attention to how good he looked. Damn-- maybe you should have shot your shot years ago when he was a personal trainer.
As you watched him at the head of the room, you allowed your mind to wander.
One extremely long and boring sermon later, you stand awkwardly behind your parents as they talk to what Seems like every member of the church. God how you regret agreeing to come-- It's not like you knew anyone here- none of your friends went to church. But here you were, being judged by middle-aged churchgoers. How fun.
The sound of your name being called catches your attention.
You whip your head around to the noise, "Father Charlie!" The name is unnatural as it falls from your lips. You quickly look at your parents- too engrossed in a conversation. “It's been a while!" You awkwardly step closer to the man.
He hums, "It has been, hasn't it? The first time in the church as well.”
“Well, you know...” You gesture back to your parents.
"I'm assuming this wasn't on your schedule.” He looks you up and down, “Given your attire.”
You gasp sharply, heat rising to your face as you pathetically try to pull your skirt down. "I-uh,” you try to think of an excuse, "I didn't pack any pants..." You lie-- lying in a church is one thing but to the priest?
If Charlie sensed your lie he didn't comment on it. "Well, I hope you enjoyed today's sermon.”
"I did!" You lie again, a little too enthusiastically.
Charlie narrows his eyes at you, "You weren't paying attention, were you?" His voice is playful.
"No, I was not," You quickly confess.
He laughs, you have to fight to not stare shamefully at his beautiful face for too long. "That's odd— because when I looked at you, you looked very focused," He teases.
“I wasn't paying attention to your voice. Just your fa-" you stop in your tracks. Utterly petrified at the situation you have just found yourself in. His eyebrows raise in surprise at your slip-up. “I mean I didn't even know that you could see me in that crowd-- I-I- just figured that-”
“That every time we locked eyes it wasn't on purpose?” he finishes your thought.
You nod pathetically, your shoes suddenly extremely interesting.
Charlie takes a step towards you, the proximity making you look up at the man. Has he always been that tall? "I want you to go into my office and wait for me.” His voice is a seductive tone you have never heard him use before. It sends a shiver down your spine.
“But what about my parents?” you ask, voice just above a whisper.
“Dont worry about them,” he assures before walking away. Leaving you standing alone— stunned.
To say you were terrified was an understatement. Sure, you weren't in any danger-- at least you didn't think so. What exactly had you gotten yourself into? Here you sat, in a priest's office. Surrounded by biblical Imagery. And you were 99% Sure you were soaked through your cotton panties, you didn't care. No one but you was going to know... right?
Five minutes turned to ten. You sat anxiously in the chair across from Charlie's desk. A clock on the wall ticked away obnoxiously. You had figured when you walked in it would take him a while for him to return. how long should you wait? Has he forgotten that you were sitting in his office, impatiently waiting? You didn't dare to snoop, or even scroll on your phone. Charlie said to wait for him, and that's what you would do.
For thirty minutes you're alone in that office. you straighten your posture when you hear the clicks of Charlie’s boots nearing. The sound of the door opening makes you flinch pathetically. You don't dare turn around. Eyes glued on the desk in front of you.
Charlie is silent as he moves around behind you. Your pulse pounds in your throat at the anticipation.
“You seem nervous.” You tense at his voice, still refusing to turn around and face the man.
You try to swallow the lump in your throat, “I am nervous, Father.” You press your thighs together in an atempt to find some sort of relief to your throbbing center.
He groans quietly from behind you, “look at me.”
Like a magnet your head whips around to look at the man. His sharp gaze made your breath hitch. You felt hazy as he stepped towards you. Your eyes locked on his as he comes to stand right in front of you. Your breath quickens when he captures your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger.
Charlies predatory gaze on you deepens, his lips curling into a smirk, "you--" he rubs the lipstick on your mouth, smudging it. "Are such a pretty mess for me, darling.”
You bat your eyelashes up at him, “I don't know what you mean, Father.”
He grips the sides of your face harshly, cheeks smushing together into a pout. “Showing up to my church dressed like a slut—” he spits, “shamlessly eyefucking me the whole time like you were the only one in the room.”
You whimper at his words— he was right of course. But that didn't stop your face from flushing in embarrassment.
“Now look at you. Slut. Sitting before me like a doe as if you didn’t wait in my office hoping I would come in here and fuck you like the whore that you are.”
You moan shamelessly when he lets go of your face, while your whole body was screaming at you to submit to the man before you. You could help but push his buttons just a little bit further.
“You know for a priest you sure do have a filthy mouth—” His eyes narrow on you as you speak. “im such a slut but here you are hard in your pants over a damn mini skirt.” If looks could kill, you’d surely be dead. You needed more.
You open your mouth to speak again. But before you could even get a sound out, Charlie strikes his large hand across your cheek. You moan again, “fuck!”
Wordlessly, he turns to the desk before you. You watch curiously as he haphazardly pushes the clutter on his desk onto the floor. Your hands tremble in anticipation as you watch him bound towards you. He effortlessly picks you up from the chair you sat on, as if a reflex you cross you’d ankles behind his back as his hands greedily grip your thighs and ass.
He gently places you on the recently cleared off desk. A stark contrast to the way he effortlessly hoisted you from your seat. You attempt to grind down in the wooden desk under you for some kind of stimulation, but Charlie’s grip stops you.
“So impatient,” he purrs. He captures your lips in a quick, gentle kiss. You whine at the loss of him, but you don’t have to worry for long as his hands greedily grasps at your skirt, tearing at your legs. He leaves you with one last opened mouth kiss as he begins to trail wet kisses down your neck.
He mumbles something you can’t quite hear. But you don’t really care when he sinks to his knees, his strong hands prying your legs open. He trails more kisses to your inner thigh all the way up to your core. He licks a stripe over your soaked through panties, your legs try to close but his hands are holding your thighs open. His eyes lock on yours as he pulls them down your legs, the speed agonizing as you whimper. In a second his lips are back on you, his wet kisses up your thighs driving you mad.
“Charlie,” You thread your hand through his hair as he bites and licks at your heat like a starved man.
He mumbles a quick “no,” as he pulls away from you. His chin slicked and shiny from you. The scene is pornographic, if you had a camera you’d take a picture. He fumbles with his belt buckle and throws it to the side, the metal clanking to the floor loudly. You shamelessly stare as he stands back up, towering over you again he gets close enough that you feel his breath on your face.
“Look at you,” he tuts. You lurch forward— pulling him into a greedy, filthy kiss. When he moans into your mouth it’s the most heavenly sound you’ve ever heard. Pushing you back into the desk, once again he’s muttering something, a prayer. You paw at his zipper and he lazily watches you has you pull out his angry cock.
“Please?” You beg, tears welling up in your eyes from sheer sexual frustration.
“Since you asked so nicely~” he steals a quick kiss before dragging his leaking tip through your folds.
He pushes into you fully in one smooth motion. Your back arches up off of the desk, wood painfully digging into your spine. You didn’t care— all you cared about was him.
Fast sharp deep thrusts have you screaming as the sounds of skin ring throughout the office. You curse- throwing your arms over your head. Charlie’s mouth gaping while he groans, pressing and thrusting himself into you.
"Just, like that, oh.. god." You wail as he slams himself into your g spot repeatedly.
Charlie greedily paws at your clothed breasts as his hips slap into yours. You clench around him— you can already feel your orgasm building from the rough pace set. Charlie’s hips stutter from your action and you clench again. A low groan leaves his beautifully shaped lips as he digs his fingers into your hips.
You moan— you try to form words but Charlie feels so good inside of you that your brain feels like mush. He seems to be able to tell your close however by the way his thumb reaches down to rub sloppy circles onto your clit.
Your vision turns white as you come undone. Your nails dig into the desk below you as Charlie chases his own release. He leans down, pressing kisses into your cheeks and necks, unlike the kisses before; these are gentle and caring. You hiss when he pulls out of you, missing the feeling of him inside you immediately.
“How much convincing will it take for you to come to next weeks service?” He breathily laughs against the side of your face.
“If it’s gonna end like this again— none at all.”
♡︎༻🌸༺♡︎
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Tag list (If you want to be added just comment!)
@Nallasstuff @chmpgneprblem @qoopeeya @lilybellalana @sleepysongbirdsings
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obsessivevoidkitten · 3 months ago
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The Ogre Prince of Breakbend Isle
Male Ogre Yandere x Feminized Male Reader
CW: Noncon, drugging, aphrodisiacs, aphrodisiac cum, kidnapping, voyeurism, masturbation, big musky ogre cock, cockwarming, somnophilia, multiple orgasms, feminized reader, belly bulge from absurdly huge dick, belly bulge from absurdly large amounts of ogre cum, sweet yandere, general yandere behavior
Word Count: 1.4k
(Started writing this last night before the cat thing, then worked more on it until 5am, then finished it up this evening. REALLY hope you all like it, pretty please comment <3)
Breakbend Isle. Not a place any human should ever be. It was a medium-sized island filled with ogre villages. Yet you were there. A storm had taken your tiny fishing ship and washed you up there. The boat had broken hopelessly too. 
You were stranded in dangerous territory. The ogres had a reputation for being brutal and violent towards trespassers, as none who had set foot there had ever returned. 
And you were no exception. Despite your best efforts, your cooking fire was sniffed out miles away by Rahtrig the Wrathful. Prince to the leading ogres of Breakbend Isle, son of a the fiercest ogre warlord in human history. He took after his father, over 7ft tall and all muscle.
He had been hunting for deer but found something far more appetizing for a completely different type of hunger. 
Instead of just walking up and snatching you, he was captivated and wanted to just… watch. You were so pretty. Most ogres found humans to be exceedingly beautiful. No matter the human's gender they made cute little wives. 
Their delicate hands and tongues could greatly pleasure an ogre's prick or massage his big nuts. Rahtrig rubbed his aching crotch in anticipation.
The ogre prince watched you as you ate some fish you had caught. Your tiny little meal that you ate with your delicate little mouth. Then he stared as you disrobed and got into the nearby stream to bathe.
Rahtrig stared in rapt attention at your form. Your perfect small human cock was just so cute. He'd definitely let you grind your cock on his big tongue and let you spill your seed on it. 
He started stroking himself as he watched and fantasized about all the amazing things the two of you could do together. He came quickly, spilling thick cum all over the ground. 
The ogre had to stifle a moan. He wasn't yet ready to steal you away. Instead, he continued to spy on you until you went to sleep on a pile of leaves with only a jacket to cover you.
Rahtrig crept closer and gazed upon the serenity of your sleeping face bathed in the soft moonlight. Then he imagined more domestic and romantic things for the two of you. 
Having you sleep with your head nestled on his huge pecs, lightly drooling on him because of how safe and comfortable you feel. Coming home to you after a long day of hunting or patrol. Maybe even adopting an orphan ogre child and raising it as your own together.
You awoke to find yourself carried over the shoulder of a massive ogre. He stroked your back to comfort you while you cried, kicked, and struggled. 
"Shhh, my small flower, would never hurt you. I'm your husband, Rahtrig!"
Did you hear that correctly?
"What? No! You're not m-"
He chuckled loudly, cutting you off. As if the notion that he wasn't your partner was genuinely hilarious.
"Will feel lots better once we get you on my dick. Will be all you want for days~"
His promise to fuck you until you were a babbling cock addicted mess did nothing to calm you down. His deep, rumbling voice didn't exactly help soothe you either. 
You continued kicking and screaming the entire way until you were just too exhausted to continue.
When he got into the walls of his village, every ogre that happened to see what he was carrying congratulated the both of you on your upcoming marriage. You saw that there were more than a few humans that averted their gaze as Rahtrig passed by with you. Some of them were accompanied by half-ogre offspring.
The ogre holding you saw you staring at the humans and their children.
"You can't get pregnant; it's fine. We'll adopt!"
Your mind swirled with the image of an ogre child much larger and stronger than you running to you and hugging you half to death. And how would you deal with a rebellious teenager that could kill you with one smack? You barely even noticed when he opened the door to a large ogre hut and stepped inside.
Rahtrig sat you down on the bed. You shook in fear as he started a fire. After that, he lit a few candles around the room.  With the hut illuminated, you could see your surroundings clearly.
It was all one room; on this side was a bed and some furniture, and on the other there was a kitchen and eating area. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, as well as strings of small bones. The heads of various frightening beasts were mounted upon the walls.
You wondered if any of those bones were human and had never wanted to bolt more. But you were in a close walled ogre village, there was really nowhere to run.
With his task of lighting the place done, he turned his attention to you. Much to your dismay.
He took off his large fur loincloth and belt. They were all he was wearing, given the warm climate and the fact that he had only been on a hunt. 
His massive cock sprung free; it was far thicker than your arm and least three feet long, uncut and dripping with precum. It was a slightly darker shade of steel grey than the rest of his body. The musk hit you from several feet away, a heady and manly scent, not exactly unpleasant.
He grabbed a vial of liquid before walking closer.
His balls swung heavily beneath him as he got onto the bed with you, ready to empty their contents deeply into your soft ass.
You cowered and shrank against the wall that the bed was situated beside. Rahtrig could smell your fear. It was unpleasant. You were so obviously stricken with terror. 
That wouldn't do at all. That's the scent you want on prey. Or an enemy you were about to strike down in combat. Not on your pretty bride.
"Calm down, princess; this'll help. Would never hurt you."
Undeterred by your kicks and protests, the ogre prince pulled you over to him carefully and flipped you over on your belly.
Rahtrig opened the vial and slowly poured all the contents directly on your hole, making sure to massage it in as well as possible. You gradually calmed down as it took effect, though you were still quite scared that his cock would simply split you in two.
When he lined up with your hole and sunk into you, though, all remaining anxiety and fear melted away before the pure bliss you felt. 
"Wh-what was in that?"
"Magic potion. Makes humans relax. Also makes em stretchy to take ogre cock."
You only responded by moaning lewdly and pushing your ass back and forth on his dick. Impaling yourself down to the base and creating a perfect stretched outline of his prick in your tummy. 
Rahtrig licked and nipped at your sensitive neck as he thrust slowly. He continued at that leisurely pace until you whimpered for him to go faster. He smirked. He knew once you had been lubed up and then filled with ogre precum that you'd be addicted. Both were potent aphrodisiacs, as was his actual cum.
He pulled out of you and moved you over while he got situated in the bed, lying on his back.
The ogre situated you on his dick and let you ride him at your own pace.
After over an hour of riding him, you had cum several times but were still gripped with arousal. He had cum a few times too; your belly distended with cum that slowly leaked out of you and dripped down his shaft and nuts.
You started crying because you needed more but were just too tired.
Rahtrig wiped away your tears and let you lay on top of him and go gently to sleep as he kept his cock in you to fuck you to sleep.
Eventually his cum and the lube from the vial would wear off, though that could take days. You'd always crave his dick, though, no matter what after the first dose. Though you may still try to resist, it could take a while for you to bond with him. 
He was sure you'd be the perfect wife eventually, though. Even if it took a while for you to be willing. All the humans who landed on the island settled in at some point.
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essenceofelegance · 1 month ago
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A Year || LN4
summary: A year can really change someone in a lot of ways.
genre: fluff
warnings: none
notes: THIS IS MY FIRST SMAU SO LMK WHAT YOU THINK! also english is literally my third language and this isn't proof read/ grammar checked so mistakes are bound to appear :(
SMAU/ Written
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Summer 2023
Max Fewtrell added a video to their story.
tagged: @/yourusername @/LandoNorris
yourusername posted!
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yourusername Ibiza!!
liked by landonorris, lilymhe, maxfewtrell and 94,879 other
tagged: @/LandoNorris @/MaxFewtrell
user1 DJ LANDO!!
user2 y/n feeding us dj land content. she's the real queen here
user3 I thought y/n said she didn't like to go clubbing
➥ user4 maybe she's just there to be with lando
user5 bro did anyone see that video on TikTok? y/n looked so uncomfortable I feel so bad for her
➥ user6 RIGHT?
➥ user7 she's such a good girlfriend, if I were her, I would've just left lando at the club by himself lolol
user8 salivating bc Dj landooo
user9 BARK BARK BARK
➥ user10 y/n looking at this be like...
user11 does anyone know what club theyre at?!! I'm in ibiza I wanna meet them!!
➥ user12 bro leave them alone
➥ user13 @/user12 I don't see a problem 🤷
-
You never liked clubbing.
After all, you were only here because of Lando.
The music was too loud, people were pushing up against you, you never really liked to drink because you had a really low alcohol tolerance, you could make an entire list of why a club was not your go-to hang out.
"Lan," you yelled, trying to speak over the music, "Yeah?" He said, taking one side of his DJ headphones off so he could speak to you.
"Can we go back?" You asked. There was nothing you wanted more than to go back to the comfort of your hotel room with your boyfriend.
"It's only midnight." Lando said, "Why would you wanna go back? Are you not having fun?" Land asks you, but you could tell he wasn't really focused on you. You could see it in his eyes.
"I don't wanna stay any longer, clubbing isn't really my thing." You said, a hint of pleading in your tone.
"Soon, baby, okay?" Lando said, not even giving you a chance to protest before turning back to his DJ set.
You sighed in defeat, before retreating to a quieter corner of the club.
It was going to be a long night, like any other you've spent in a club, with Lando.
Summer 2024
Max Fewtrell added a photo to their story.
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tagged: @/LandoNorris
yourusername added a photo to their story.
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tagged: @/LandoNorris
Lando Norris added a photo to their story.
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caption: taking pictures of my pretty girl
tagged: @/lando.jpg @/yourusername
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yourusername ibizaaaa im backk
liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, alexandrasaintmleux and 107,897 others
tagged: @/LandoNorris @/yourbestfriend @/MaxFewtrell
alexandrasaintmleux miss you! ♥ by author
lilymhe ditch him for me!!! ♥ by author
➥ yourusername say less 💍
➥ landonorris ???????? @/AlexAlbon
➥ alexalbon atp im used to it
user1 both of them are so pretty its not fair
user2 no DJ Lando content?!
user3 Not even following y/n because she's lando's girlfriend, im following her bc she's Y/N
user4 that jawline
user5 why do they keep going back to Ibiza
➥ user6 litt, like, why can't they go literally ANYWHERE ELSE
user7 OMGOMGMG I WAS tHERE AND I SAW LANDO GO UP TO Y/N FROM BEHIND AND LITERALLY PULLED HER INTO HIM BY THE WAIST AHHHHHHHHHH
➥ user8 WHATTTTT
➥ user9 picture or it didn't happen
user10 dj lando...?
-
You were about to head to the bar to get another drink, seeing as Lando wouldn't want to leave anytime soon, and your best friend was probably hooking up with some hot Spanish guy, when you felt a pair of familiar arms wrap themselves around your waist, the familiar scent of Lando's cologne surrounding you, along with the smell of alcohol.
Lando nuzzled his head into your neck, mumbling something quietly, so quiet you couldn't hear him over the club music.
"What is it?" You said, raising your voice slightly, so he could hear you over the loud buzzing of the club music.
"Nothing." He mumbled, "Missed you, is all."
A small smile unwittingly showed up on your face, "Im gonna go get a drink. Go party."
But, Lando shook his head, "Can we go back to the hotel? I wanna cuddle." He said into your neck, instinctively pulling you closer.
You were shocked, to say the least. A year ago, he wouldn't leave the club no matter how hard you tried to convince him. He was a party animal, but now, he was asking if you wanted to leave.
You checked the time on your phone, it was barely midnight, Lando never left anything before midnight, let alone a club.
"Why, are you feeling sick?" You asked him, turning around to face him.
His arms wrapped themselves back around your waist, "What?" He asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. "No." He said, "just wanna cuddle with you."
"That's new." You commented as you brought your arms up to wrap around his neck.
"I always wanna cuddle." Lando said.
"Yeah, but not at the extent of leaving the club early." You said.
"Can we please go?" He mumbled again, looking at you like a puppy.
You nodded after a few seconds, "Never liked clubbing that much anyway, I only come to be with you."
As Lando and you and Lando were heading towards the exit of the club, you bumped into Max (Fewtrell). "Leaving so soon?" He asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.
"Yeah," Lando nodded, "Going back to the hotel to cuddle with my girl." He said, raising you hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.
"You've really changed him," Max joked, "Lando being the first to leave? Never in a billion years."
You laughed, "Believe me, I don't believe it either."
"Can we go?" Lando all but whined.
You laughed again, "Okay, okay, lets go."
You waved goodbye to Max and led Lando out the club, and when Max saw his best friend look at you like you were the one who hung the stars in the sky, he knew you'd changed him for the better. And that his best mate was well and truly, in love.
-
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yourusername sleepy boy chronicles 🤪
liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 108,950 others
tagged: @/LandoNorris
landonorris at least I look cute ♥ by author
➥ yourusername can't disagree with that
user1 how does one fall asleep in the middle of packing?
user2 hes jus like us  🥺
➥ user3 relatable king
landonorris I was only that tired because you kept me up all night doing cardio..
user4 lando and y/n are so cute tgt I cannot
user5 Im convinced Lando only made it to 24 because of Y/n
➥ yourusername I mean..
➥ landonorris hey!
user6 Lando has no bad angles
user7 I SAW THAT LANDO
➥ user8 y/n is just a girl and lando is just a boy.. they need their cardio ;) ♥ by author
➥ user8 Y/N PLS MARRY ME
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landonorris ❤️
liked by yourusername, maxfewtrell, carlossainz55 and 709,897 others
yourusername is this what you do in your free time? take pictures of pretty girls?
➥ landonorris only of the ones that I love more than anything
➥ yourusername so you're saying there's more than one? 🤨
maxfewtrell Happy for you, mate ♥ by author
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wordsarelife · 2 months ago
Text
—the alchemy
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pairing: jj maybank x fem!routledge reader
summary: you always had a thing for jj, while you thought he had a thing for kie. you couldn't have been more wrong..
warnings: none i think
notes: i have absolutely no clue how to play poker, so please don't grill me lmao
the water glistened, reflecting the afternoon sun. you dunked your feet inside, hanging from the bridge you were sitting on. it was lightly moving due to the waves beneath it.
you kept your eyes trained on the horizon, but looking at nothing in particular.
jj came running from the shore, sitting down beside you, letting his feet dangle into the water next to yours. "john b is making food"
"what could he possibly be making?" you smiled, clearly knowing that there wasn't much left in the pantry. you got through the day alright, thanks to both of you working, but you didn't buy any extraordinary things to make sure you had enough money to pay everything else.
“we’re having toast,” jj smirked, then paused for dramatic effect. “but we raided heyward’s for tomatoes, and kiara brought guac from her mom. so it’s fancy toast.”
“fancy toast! the ritz could never.” you hugged your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them, but a smile crept up on your lips.
"what are you even doing out here alone?"
"i'm thinking"
"about your dad?" jj asked carefully. "you know I’m here if you need to spill. no judgment. not even if it’s super depressing.”
"thanks, i know" you were thankful that you had such great friends. people that were like family to you and always made sure you were alright, even if they didn't have much to give themselves, apart from kiara.
"are you going to surf the surge tomorrow?" jj changed the topic, interpreting your silence as answer enough.
"heard agatha's gonna be a bitch" you shrugged. "must be nice to lose a few unnecessary limbs"
"don't be ridiculous, i'm a pro" jj took the sunglasses off his head and pushed them on your nose instead. "are you coming or not?"
"i prefer not to" you giggled, slapping his hand away as he tried to readjust the rest of your apperance. "gonna look good for cps"
"they won't even make it out here, agatha will arrive too soon for that"
"well, then i should be thanking her, right?" you looked up to the sky, the sun still breaking through the slowly arriving clouds, but the darkness of them made it evident that it wouldn't take too long for the storm to arrive. "thanks aggy! sorry for calling you a bitch"
"if that isn't nice" jj grinned. "look at you! such a polite lady"
"told you i could behave better than you" you stood up and waited for him to do the same. "i'm pretty sure they just told you to go and get me not to wait out until they had finished the food, right?"
"caught me" jj shrugged. you knew him well enough to guess that he was trying to escape more work than necessary. "but it did take some time to find you. you weren't in the tower john b locked you in"
"oh, maybe i'm not as well behaved as we thought" you shrugged, following him back to the beach. "you need those sunglasses soon?" you liked the red tinted look of them. you had worn them before and you loved that they made you look like a hippie or vanessa hudgens going to coachella in 2014.
“keep ‘em,” jj shrugged, giving you an exaggerated once-over. “you look better in them anyway.”
you raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious. “how much did these cost?”
jj spun around, pretending to be offended. “whoa, whoa! don’t insult me like that. i didn’t pay for them.”
you laughed. “you stole these?”
“they were like six dollars, okay? i stole them out of principle.” he wiggled his eyebrows like that somehow made sense.
you shook your head amused. “jj, that’s still stealing.”
“nah, see, i was planning on giving them to you for a while, so really, it was a selfless act. call it proactive gift-giving.”
jj’s face lit up, the trademark smirk in place as you walked side by side back toward the beach. he kicked at the sand a little, glancing over at you every few seconds like he was waiting for you to laugh again.
you could hear the others before you saw them—john b shouting something about the toast burning, and kiara’s voice cutting through with, “how do you even burn toast?!”
“so, what’s the plan after we survive this gourmet meal?” you asked, your tone only half-teasing.
jj rubbed his hands together with a glint in his eyes. “well, after we feast on fancy toast and whatever leftovers kiara’s mom sent, i was thinking… poker.”
“poker? don’t we always lose when we play with pope?”
“yeah, but he’s working today, so we have a chance.” jj wiggled his eyebrows as if this were the best news in the world.
you laughed, shaking your head. “so, your plan is to take all my money after i generously agree to participate in poker?”
jj’s smirk deepened. “well, since you’re wearing those shades, you’re bound to win. you’ve got that poker-face-hippie thing going on.”
you shrugged, pretending to think about it. “true. i could absolutely bluff the hell out of you all.”
he nodded seriously. “exactly. so really, it’s your civic duty to play.”
“civic duty,” you repeated, laughing. “sure, sure.”
"sit down, you two" kiara ancouraged when you walked onto the patio.
"where have you been that long?" john b questioned, looking at you suspiciously. "you're always sneaking around together"
"don't be ridicilous, b" you shook your head. "we were just watching the waves"
kiara and jj exchanged glances you didn’t quite understand. it made your nerves tweak to not know what they were hinting at.
“i bet it was a sight so see” kiara said softly, a smirk on her face.
jj nodded. “as always” he shrugged, his eyes still on her.
you had to try hard not to let your face distort into jealousy. you had had a crush on jj for as long as you could remember. and the two of you were close, but nothing ever really happened with your brothers best friend.
being in love with jj was confusing. most of the time, he treated you just like anyone else, acting completely normal. but then, out of nowhere, he'd start flirting, leaving you unsure of what to think.
even though you tried your best, the crush on the boy always resurfaced when he would flirt with you once more, keeping your hopes up.
the meal continued without anything happening and you found yourselves cleaning the table to play a few rounds of poker like jj had promised.
"looks like you're in a tough spot" he grinned.
kiara had put down her cards, while you were trying hard to keep a straight face, knowing you would probably lose.
you shrugged. "i don't see you putting down anything valuable, maybank"
"ohh" kiara and your brother hollored at the same time.
"well, let's see then" kiara nudged jj's shoulder.
the blonde smirked before he revealed his cards to you, flushing a street. "you've underestimated me, guys"
john b and you sighed simultaneously, accepting defeat as you threw your own cards in the middle. while jj was busy mixing the cards, kiara took a look at her phone.
"i think i better head out" she smiled, standing up from her chair. "my mother's gonna go crazy if i'm late again"
you played a few more rounds after the girl had left, john b and you losing to jj each time. you were sure he had gotten help from pope, knowing that his time would come.
john b threw down his cards after one more uneventful round. "i'm heading to bed" he nodded, pulling his snapback down, before he highfived jj and pressed a kiss to your hair. "don't stay up too late"
"night, b" you smiled as you watched after him.
"one more round?" jj giggled.
"i'm all out" you shrugged, pointing at the pile of money on the table in front of him.
"well, if i lose you can have all of it"
"this sounds almost too good" you muttered. "okay, what if i lose then?"
"you'll take off your shirt" he shrugged.
"jj!" you pushed a hand to your mouth, draining out the scream of outrage that threatened to errupt in the air between you.
"what?" jj smirked, looking up at you with wide blue eyes. "am i making you nervous?"
"not a chance," you shot back, trying to keep your voice steady despite the way your heart was hammering in your chest. jj's smirk widened, the mischievous glint in his eyes only growing as he shuffled the cards one more time.
"alright then," he said, dealing the cards smoothly. "prove it."
you glanced at your hand, trying to keep your expression neutral. jj's eyes flickered up to meet yours, watching you intently, and you couldn't tell if he was bluffing or not.
you took a deep breath and played the first card, trying to focus on the game instead of the way jj was watching you like a hawk.
the next few minutes were tense, each of you placing cards with care. it was almost suffocating.
"you're really dragging this out, you know that?" you muttered, glancing up at him.
jj just grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. "patience, sweetheart. good things come to those who wait," he replied, his voice low and teasing. you rolled your eyes but couldn't help the slight tug at the corners of your mouth.
finally, it came down to the last card. you had one left in your hand, and so did jj. your eyes met, the room silent except for the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. You hesitated for a split second, then threw down your card.
jj's eyes flickered to the table, his face breaking into a triumphant grin. he laid his final card down with a laugh.
"looks like i win," he drawled, his voice smug. your eyes widened as you stared at the cards, disbelief washing over you. how did he keep doing this?
"you've got to be cheating," you grumbled, pushing back from the table. jj laughed, the sound warm, filling the quiet night air around you.
"well, you agreed to do this" he shrugged, like he was completely in the right.
you looked at him without any expression on your face, before you sighed, your fingers dipping down to meet the material of your shirt, as you stood up.
jj's eyes widened at your movement, standing up at the same time. "it was a joke, y/n" he muttered quickly. "you don't have to do anything you don't want to"
you halted in your movement. "if you had won, would you have given me the money, like you promised?"
"of course" jj answered without so much as a thought.
your smile deepend, before your fingers gripped the hem of the shirt, pulling it over you head in a quick motion. revealed was your bikini top. the one jj had seen you in a million times, but still his eyes widened even further.
jj's mouth opened slightly, his usual cocky demeanor vanishing as he stared at you. he remembered seeing you in it before, but this still felt different. maybe it was the intimacy of the dimly lit patio, or the way you stood before him now, your eyes steady and unwavering. you had called his bluff, and he was utterly speechless.
"see?" you said, trying to keep your voice light despite the rapid thudding of your heart. "no big deal. just a bikini, jj."
he swallowed hard, finally snapping out of his daze. "right," he said, his voice cracking slightly. he cleared his throat, his gaze darting away before quickly finding its way back to you. "just a bikini."
you walked around the table, pushing yourself between him and the discarded chair. "this can't really be the reason you're so uneasy"
you tried to read the emotion on his face, but he just looked at you, at a loss for words. you softly pushed your hand to rest against his chest. your eyes widened in surprise. "your heart is racing" you declared with a soft whisper.
"yeah" jj finally found his words. "you're so close"
you looked up at him, surprised at what he was hinting at. "i'm sorry if i'm making you uncomfortable" you tried to step back, but his hand shot out, holding you in place by your elbow.
"jj" you muttered, your voice barely audible. you could feel your heart beat just as fast as his did.
"have i ever told you how beautiful you are?" jj's voice was soft and tender, like he was trying not to disrupt the calmness of the moment.
"no" you sighed, unsure. he came closer, your noses were almost touching. his eyes were ready to close, not far from kissing you. your voice rung out before he could do anything of that sort. "what about kie?"
"what?" jj blinked in surprise, stepping backwards.
"what about kie?" you repeated a little bit louder.
"what about her?" jj laughed, before he saw the confusion in your eyes.
"i thought there was something—“
"between me and kie?" he smiled, shaking his head. "well only that she knew about my crush on you"
"you have a crush on me?"
"i thought it was kinda obvious" he pointed a finger between the both of you. "can i please finally kiss you now, routledge?"
you smiled, your heart fluttering in your chest at his confession. "of course" you watched him step closer once more, before you grinned. "but what about—?"
"—oh would you shut up now?" he pushed his lips against yours, drowning out your giggle as your smile touched his mouth like it was supposed to.
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cow-smells · 1 year ago
Text
Worth your While | Opla! Sanji x reader
Request: I've read that you are in the need for some Sanji request or ideas so here's one for a fic :D
The crew gets into a fight ( it can be the Navy or anither pirate crew) and the reader gets badly hit and Sanji just loses his shit seeing the person that he cared for the most getting knocked out?? I just genuinely wanna see Sanji just go ape shit on people because of it XD and maybe hiw the others in the clue will react to seeing Sanji like that? @smolracoon25
Summary: You and Sanji have been playing the flirting game for way too long. When you get injured, Sanji shows a side of himself you had yet to see.
Word count: 2.1k
Warnings: none
A/n: I'm going purely off the live-action so pls have that in mind, also I'm just getting back in to the rhythm of writing after such a long time so sorry if this is poop/ooc/both, love ya :)
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Read on AO3
“Don't you ever take a break?”
Zoro's voice coming from behind startled you, forcing you to break your longing gaze at Sanji who was fishing at the bow of the ship. “Huh?” came your wise response.
Zoro looked from you to Sanji. “You've been making moon eyes at him for months now. Don't you get tired? Or are you waiting for him to take his shift staring at you so that you can clock off?”
You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was far from the first time crew members commented about you and Sanji's – whatever was going on between you two – but this was the first time Zoro called you out so blatantly.
When you didn't respond, Zoro went on. “I just came to tell you we should be docking soon. I'll leave you the pleasure of telling the cook.” with that, he left.
You closed the book on your lap. You really did have the intention of reading when you first head out to the deck, having some time to kill, but then... you noticed Sanji. At first you thought you'd go sit with him for a while, flirt and banter a little as you always do, but you found yourself absorbed in taking him in instead. He was different when he was alone. The way he looked so focused, so deep in thought when it was just him and the sea. Maybe even a little sad. So different from his usual sunny exterior that he put on when he was with people. Falling in to deep thoughts wondering what he might be thinking about – maybe about you? - you sat and stared, not reading as much as a word.
The book discarded, you felt a spring in your step as you made your way to the ship's chef.
The creaking floorboards alerted your arrival. Sanji turned to see who was creeping up on him, and when he saw you, he set his fishing rod aside as a wide smile grew on his lips, his dimples deepening and making your heart miss a beat. “There's my favourite girl. Come here, let me hear all about your day.” Sanji held his arms open, beckoning you to come sit on his lap.
The flirting was nothing new. When you first joined the Strawhats, Sanji was as flirty to you as he was to any other woman; he did not expect to meet his match in you. You were quick to play along, always one-upping him, dancing along the line that separated playfulness and seriousness, never quite picking a side.
The problem was, in reality, you had chosen a side long ago.
You would flirt and giggle and make him blush but never actually act upon anything. Neither would Sanji. He, however, took your playing along as though it was a battle to be won. Sanji would flirt, you'd reply with something raunchy, he would surprise you with something heartfelt. It was as though he knew exactly where to hit in order to get you a little closer to buckling, every time. As time went on he had become so devoted to your back and forth that you noticed he had gradually abandoned all other efforts flirting with other women, to focus entirely on you.
You had to remind yourself that this was a game to him. An instinct, almost. It hurt to think of your relationship that way, but you had to keep that thought at the forefront of your mind if you didn't want to fall even harder for him.
So you would continue to play along, even if that's all that you could have with him.
You chose not to indulge him completely – that was too dangerous for you – and so you opted to bend a knee over the armrest of his chair. Close, but no contact. “Come on, Sanji,” you bent your head in what felt like a bashful manner and said, “you know I spent all day thinking of you.”
You weren't sure if he was blushing or if that was just your wishful thinking. Composing himself, Sanji wrapped an arm around you to hold your waist, lightly tracing circles on your hip. “I beg of you, darling – next time, come find me instead of just thinking of me. I'll make it worth your while.”
You wanted to ask, how will you make it worth my while? Just to hear Sanji go in to detail of what you've been fantasizing about for months. But instead, you opted for a tamer response. “I came to tell you we're docking soon. Maybe I'll find you then and you could make it worth my while with a drink.”
Without missing a beat, Sanji took hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. “There's nothing I'd enjoy more.” With that, he kissed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.
Docking started out normal. Everyone knew what their usual chores were when you reached a town, restocking and fixing so that the ship would be in top condition for its next leg of the journey in your search for the One Piece. So while Sanji went in to town to restock on groceries (you didn't pay much attention to the others), you, Nami and Usopp stayed around the ship to fix up some of the damage it took when you last encountered a rival pirate ship. That also happened to be the reason it was just you three when the same rival pirates noticed your ship docked, ready to take their revenge.
The three of you had your individual talents, but you just weren't enough to hold up against an entire rival crew. They had attacked so suddenly and so fiercely – it didn't take long before you were on the sand, fighting to stay conscious. You lost that fight as you watched Usopp try his best to fight off three attackers at once.
You really thought that would be the end for you. You should have known better; it was Sanji's voice you heard as you regained consciousness, motivating you to open your eyes despite the pain that flooded your body.
The beach area all around you was covered with pirates who were taken down, just like you – only that they were your enemies. You first noticed Nami's orange hair – she seemed to be taking care of a bleeding Usopp, his condition worse than yours. Following Sanji's voice, you found him holding the last one of the rival crew by his shirt, throwing punches like you've never seen him before. It took you aback – thinking about it, you had never seen Sanji use his hands in combat. Too precious – need them for cooking, he'd once told you before adding, the only thing more precious to me is you. It had made you blush at the time before you had laughed him off. Now, you were questioning if it was a joke at all.
The man Sanji was holding wasn't putting up a fight – he was far too battered for that, but Sanji didn't stop. He was too far away for you to understand what he was saying to the guy, but focusing hard, you could just about make out half sentences – "to hit a woman" – "don't deserve to breath" – "finish you" – you searched for the strength to get up and stop him. You had never seen Sanji – your happy, cheerful Sanji – so angry, feral even. It scared you a little; but mostly, you knew Sanji would regret it if he were to kill a man who no longer posed a threat. So you grasped at the sand, forcing your aching bones to pick yourself up. But as you were regaining your balance, Sanji finally threw the man to the sand, a look of disgust painting his handsome features. "Finally made a date with her and you ruined it... You hurt her. You're lucky I don't kill you." The man groaned in pain.
In a sharp change, his features went from anger to concern as he finally left the man and turned to where he last saw you laying. His eyes were full of honest pain, until he saw you on your feet – then they read of hope. "Y/n!" Sanji called, rushing to you as he could see your struggle to stand upright. "You- I-" he scanned your body as he reached you, taking in all visible injuries. "Are you – are you okay? Can I help you?" he reached an arm around your waist, waiting for your approval before he held on to help you stay up, so afraid he might hurt you.
"Thanks." his arm around you really helped you to stay up. It was a practical measure, sure, any one of your crew mates would do the same – but when you look up and meet Sanji's eyes, you know that the tense feeling between you two wouldn't have been replicated with anyone else. "I mean it. You saved us. We'd... I'd be lost without you." at that, Sanji smiled that deep-dimpled smile of his at you, the playfulness not reaching his still-concerned eyes.
"Y/n," he started. "are you really flirting with me, at a time like this?"
It was strange how despite all your injuries, you felt less and less of the pain the longer you leaned in to Sanji, close enough to smell his fragrance. A half-smile reached your lips. You couldn't play this game any longer. "Did you really beat that guy up that bad because he ruined what should have been our... date?"
Sanji tensed, obviously not ready to have this conversation now. His gaze dropped momentarily before he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. "I had a hundred reasons to kill him," Sanji said, and you felt disappointment bubbling through you until he continued, "but the most pressing reason is that he ruined our date."
Sanji took the opportunity to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and you couldn't help but smile so big you were embarrassed by it. "I really wanted that drink with you, away from the ship and everyone else. Just us."
You recomposed yourself. You needed clarity. "I'm not playing anymore, Sanji."
Sanji chuckled. "Fancy that. I was never playing at all."
You must have forgotten how to breath at all when he leaned down, his hand finding a rest on your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek. Nearly a whisper, he asked – "Can I kiss you?"
You leaning in served as the consent he searched for. After months of pining over each other, wondering what it would be like – his lips met yours, in a mixture of softness and passion like you'd never felt before. Forgetting you were injured at all you sneaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in, almost afraid of letting this anticipated moment of passion go. Sanji was more than happy to pull closer, a hand on your lower back holding you impossibly close to him.
The moment did, however, find its end as you heard your Captain whoop and holler from afar. "Yeah! Way to go, Sanji! About damn time!"
Breaking the kiss, Sanji nodded at Luffy, his smile lines prominent as he looked the proudest you'd ever seen him.
The crew was more than happy to make a quick exit that night, preferring to not stay around until the rival crew regained their strength. You were helping Nami untie the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock when she said, "I really thought he was going to kill him earlier." you didn't know how to respond. "I've never seen Sanji like that." Nami managed to untie a knot, and Zoro began pulling the rope up on to the ship. "He's really got it bad for you."
Despite that questionable context, you couldn't help but smile. In a burst of honesty you confessed; "I hope so, because I've got it real bad for him, too."
On cue, the ship's chef leaned over the ships railing, looking down to you. "Y/n, my love!" he called, as though the rest of the crew wasn't surrounding the both of you. "I hope you're finished down there, because I've got a candlelit dinner waiting for you up here. And drinks. You know, to make it worth your while," he finished with a wink.
From behind Sanji you could hear Luffy ask, "What about our dinner? Just because you're lovers now doesn't mean we don't need to eat..."
Sanji sighed and turned away from you, probably to go protect your dinner before Luffy demolished it.
"Right then, let's go," Nami said as you finished untying the last rope. "While there's still food to eat."
And for the first time, you boarded your ship not to find the One Piece or the All Blue – you were just happy to be there, with the man you loved.
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ofstarsandvibranium · 6 months ago
Text
Precious Truths: Part I
Fandom: Bridgerton
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader
Summary: After your father finds out you've been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month's time.
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Ever since you were little, you found solace in poetry. Your mother highly encouraged your governess to have you read any and every poetry book that was ever made. The imagery and feelings it produced was something you never experienced before.
After your mother died, your father forbade you from reading poetry. He forbade you for ever mentioning your mother again. Their love was strong and true. As a result, it caused your father deep heartache. He became cold, heartless, and cruel. A drunkard and a gambler. Fortunately, his sister, your aunt, had moved in and became lady of the house. She became your mother figure, but she could only do so much.
She snuck you poetry books when she could. The words now being the only part of your mother you had to connect to.
Because of this love, you began to write poetry yourself. You only ever shared it to your aunt and friend, Kate Bridgerton nee Sharma, another lover of stories and poetry. Both having expressed their hopes of you publishing your writing some day.
"Maybe some day," you'd always say.
What they didn't know was that you did publish your poems. You went under a man's pseudonym, Arthur Talbot. His poetry books were becoming popular among the ton and it brought you joy and a sense of thrill whenever someone mentioned his name to you.
You'd recite your his poetry readings held at Lady Danbury's often. Everyone was always in awe of how the words poured out of you with intense and deep emotion.
But the one who was most taken with them and you, was none other than Benedict Bridgerton.
_______________________
The small group break out into applause and you curtsy. Lady Danbury walks up to you with a proud grin on her face, "Another splendid performance, Miss L/N. I can tell you deeply resonate with Talbot. "
You bow, "Thank you, Lady Danbury. His words mean a lot to me. It's as if he and I are one." You hold back a laugh as you express your gratitude to the hostess.
"Well, I think this calls for a break," the older woman turns to face her guests, "Everyone please enjoy some refreshments."
People begin to disperse, leaving the sitting room for other parts of the Danbury estate.
You're standing off to the side, watching those around you, when your dear friend, Benedict, approaches you. You smile wide at him, "Ben!"
"Another splendid performance, Miss L/N," he lifts his glass to you.
You chuckle, "Thank you. But I think Arthur Talbot deserves just as much praise. They're his words after all."
Benedict nods, "Yes, but you perform his words so beautifully."
You look away, feeling a heat crawl up your cheeks. Benedict clears his throat, "I take it you still have no marriage prospects since you haven't mentioned anyone courting you."
You look back up at him and snort, "Ben, this is my fourth year in society. I highly doubt I'll ever find a man willing to marry me at this point." You cast your eyes down to play with a thread on your skirt, "No one wants to be married to someone who has gambling drunkard father. Doesn't matter if he's a Lord or not."
"If my brother, Anthony, managed to find love and a wife, you will to, Y/N."
You scoff, "How dare you put me in the same category as Anthony."
"I agree," you turn to see said brother and Kate, approaching you, arm in arm, "You're much better than my husband," Kate says with a smirk.
"Still disgustingly in love, I see," you arch a playful look at your friend.
"Very much so, I'm afraid."
Anthony unhook his arm from Kate's and moves towards Benedict, "Come, brother. Let us let the ladies socialize." He takes Benedict's glass and downs it in a gulp.
The younger brother frowns, "I was drinking that."
"Then we shall grab another and drinks for the ladies," he pats his brother's shoulder and Benedict groans, following his brother out of the room.
You and Kate take a seat on the couch and catch up while the men grab drinks.
_____________________
"So, have you finally decided to court Miss L/N?" the eldest Bridgerton asks.
"We are friends, Anthony. Nothing more."
"So you don't love her anymore?" Anthony asks with a curious gaze, taking a sip of brandy.
"...I didn't say that. Besides, you originally didn't want me involved with her because of her father. Isn't that right?"
"Yes, well, we are the not the sins of our parents. Miss L/N is a lovely woman. She's smart, well-read, not to mention she laughs with you even when your jokes aren't funny."
Benedict's brows furrow, "I am funny!"
Anthony takes another sip of his drink and sighs, "What I mean to say is that I think you two would be a fine match. Besides, it's not like any other man is interested in her."
Benedict immediately clenches his jaw and takes a leering step towards his older brother, "Don't talk about her like that."
Stunned by the sudden change of his brother, Anthony takes a cautious step back, "I meant no harm, brother, but is it not true? It's been years since she's stepped into society and very few men have made an effort to court her."
Benedict lets out a deep breath and apologizes, "I'm sorry."
Anthony clears his throat, "All I'm saying is that you've had several chances to be with her. If you don't take the opportunity, you may lose her."
_________________________
"I apologize for missing another one of your recitals," Kate says, grabbing your hand and intertwining her fingers with yours. Ever since she married Anthony, you two have become acquainted due to your paths crossing whenever you came to see Benedict.
You shrug, "You've heard it all before, Kate. Just another one of Talbot's poems."
"You're quite smitten with this poet, it seems."
You laugh, "I can't help it! His words are as if he speaks to my soul!"
"Maybe I should write to this Talbot and see if he'd like to ever attend a Bridgerton ball."
You shake your head, "Oh no. Please, don't. People say never to meet your heroes, so I don't think I would want to meet him."
Kate shrugs, "As you wish."
Anthony and Benedict come back with drinks in hand. Anthony hands Kate a glass and Benedict hands you one.
"Thank you, Ben," you give him a grateful smile and he smiles back, "Of course."
He sits in the chair beside you and you two fall into discussion about the poem you recited, all the while Kate and Anthony give each other knowing looks.
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clrasecretdiary · 15 days ago
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Late night confessions | Spencer reid x Fem!Reader
only fluff allowed in this house
In which Spencer can't believe how oblivious you were.
Warnings: Pretty sure none!
Content: Love confessions, reader is oblivious, really cutesy, petnames (stuff like darling...)
--
It’s a Saturday night, and you’re getting ready to go out with your friends from the BAU. Somehow, you guys got lucky enough to have this day off and decided to go to a bar and have some fun. Hotch and Rossi both said they’re “too old” for this and decided to not go, which honestly left you relieved, you really did not want both your bosses to see you in the outfit you had planned for the night. Besides them, everyone was going, and you were excited to see the team outside of work – particularly excited to see a certain genius. 
You and Spencer are the kind of friends that everyone perceived as “suspiciously close” and everyone that didn’t know thought you guys were a couple. Actually, there was a bet amongst your friends as to how long it would take you two to actually get together.
At first, you and Spencer found it uncomfortable and got awkward every time they made a joke about you two being together, but after some time, you guys started to join in a bit. Now, the irony of it all is, between all the flirty jokes, the way Spencer became so comfortable with you being clingy to him besides his germophobia and the way he cared so much about you…  You fell in love with him. 
Arriving at the bar, you spot your friends all sat at a booth and head over to them.
“Hey guys” 
“Hi sweetie, you look gorgeous” Garcia says, giving you a kiss on the cheek 
“Thanks darling, you look stunning too” You say, taking a seat between Spencer and Penelope. 
You talk to your friends, occasionally making eye contact with Spencer, who has been blushing ever since you came into the bar. You had always found it cute how no matter how many dates he had, he still would get flustered around girls he found attractive. 
You spent the night dancing and gossiping with Penelope and Emily. Later, the group was starting to leave when you felt a hand on the small of your back, when you turn around you see Spencer standing there smiling at you
“Hi Spence, wanna dance with me?” You say, putting your hands around his neck and smiling back, voice coming out a bit dragged
“Not now darling” He said, softly laughing at the way you were, not that usually you were super uptight but at this moment you seemed so relaxed and carefree he loved seeing you like that “Did you drive here?”
“Nop, but don't worry, I'll take a cab back home” 
“There's no way I'm letting you take a cab alone this late at night. C'mon, let's say goodbye to everyone and I'll take you home” 
You roll your eyes at him, but the way he was being so protective over you made your heart flutter. You thought about contesting him, something about you being a “scary FBI agent” but you knew he was right and decided to just go with it. 
You say your goodbyes to the rest of the group and go on with him to the parking lot. On the way to the car, Spencer is holding you by your waist to prevent you from stumbling, you're fully aware that you don't need it, you didn't even drink any alcohol, still you let him do it because there's no way you would ever shy away from being this close to him.  
Back at your house, Spencer goes with you in the elevator, stopping at your apartment's door 
“Alright, here you are, safe and sound” He says, smiling at you 
“Thanks Spence” You reach out to give him a hug, and it lingers for more time than it normally does
All you wanted to do right now was kiss him. 
“Do you want to come in? I'm not sleepy at all, and I would feel guilty with you driving alone this late at night, we can make some tea and talk maybe”
“I don't know, you really should rest…” Just as he began reclining your offer, you gave him the look you knew he would never say no to “Alright, I'll come in” 
“What's going on in that pretty brain of yours Spence” You say, leaning on the counter top 
You smile at him as you walk into your apartment, getting rid of your shoes and stepping into the kitchen. Spencer sits in one of the stools near the counter top and watches as you start to make tea. He watches every move you make, as if memorizing it, and maybe it's all in your head, and maybe you're just seeing what you want to see, but he has this look in his eyes, different from before.
“Not much” He smiles, and it feels like the world stops for a moment. 
 “Now that's a surprise, when have you ever not thought about everything all at once” 
“You tend to have that effect on me” His gaze lingers on you, as if he was trying to tell you something. You can't help but feel a flutter in your stomach. 
“What's that supposed to mean” You think you might know, but there's no way he reciprocates your feelings… right? 
“You know exactly what i mean, there's no way you're that oblivious” He smirks at you, and god you think you might pass out right then and there. 
“If I knew, I wouldn't be asking you, Spencer” 
He laughs and stands up, getting close to you "Alright, what i mean is when i'm close to you, that's all I can think about… You. I've been in love with you for… honestly, I don't even know how long anymore” He takes a step closer, placing a hand on your waist and his voice drops to a whisper “I've made it pretty obvious too, maybe you took the ‘don't profile each other’ too serious. How did you not notice?” 
You're shocked, you can't even process your thoughts right now. Your best friend, whom you've been in love with for years, just confessed to you. You did notice his change in behavior towards you, you just didn't believe he could ever be in love with you 
“I noticed you treated me different, but I thought it was just…” You lose your words when he reaches out and cups your jaw, you look into his eyes, and you can see the love in them, and it makes you feel something inside. 
“Can I kiss you?” He asks, and all you can do is take a deep breath and lean into his hand, feeling your heart flutter. You give him a small nod and close your eyes as he gently presses his lips against yours, and at that moment, you know that this is real. 
 He gently pulls you into his arms and kisses you on the forehead as he whispers “I love you” 
“I love you more” You say, looking up, smiling at him.
“Impossible” He says, smiling back at you.
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landossnorriss · 4 months ago
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i see you, the puppy addition - ln x she.
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Pairing: lando x she. Summary: with all the stress landos dealt with recently, doesn't he deserve a dog?. series links. Word Count: 1.4ishk Warning: just fluff.
he had wanted a dog for as long as she had been dating him, that much she recalled. it had always been a topic every few months, of whether not they thought that they were in a position to have one yet and they always reasoned that they were both too busy to make such a commitment.
then mclaren had surprised him with damn puppies, she had caught him watching the video at least six times now and swiping past the photos he had taken of the small baby boy that he had fallen in love with. it had been a smart and dumb move on their part, to tempt the man in such a way. their pr team deserved a raise though because she hadn't seen one comment about the rough few weeks that lando had had below the video and instead it was all love for how cute he looked.
crawling onto the bed she spread herself out on top of him, her hand nudging the phone away from him. "you're only going to make yourself sadder if you keep looking at him." she mused, reaching to press a kiss to his chin, her own pout matching his as lando sighed under her. "i just wish it was the right time, but even with summer break coming up..." he trailed off and she knew that he was going through the same string of arguments in his head that he always did.
come the morning they were both meant to go and join martin for a string of shows over the week and she knew lando had a string of friends that he wanted to get time with during the break. "you really don't think between us we could make it work?" she asked quietly as she looked back at him. she hadn't been at MTC with him when he'd shot the promo videos but she had been waiting for him at home and the man that had returned to her was the happiest that she had seen him in, well weeks.
"i just don't know how it would be fair." lando muttered.
"not even if charles and lewis make it work?"
"i don't know...i wouldn't want to be a bad dog dad, besides, i doubt he's still there now anyway." the driver muttered as he pressed his lips to her head. "and we're flying out tomorrow."
"actually...i have a job that i had to rearrange to be at one of the races and they can't wait any longer, so i'm going to be a little late to spain, just a day or so." she confessed quietly as she lifted her head to look at him, eyes rolling at the face he was back to looking at the photos on his screen. "it'll happen when its the right time lan."
lando nodded, putting the phone down and rolling them over so that he was looking down at her. she was right, he was already grateful for so much in his life, and they were young they'd have time to be responsible and settle later. "you're right, i'll delete the pictures tonight." maybe, he'd try anyway, right now he was quite content to distract himself as his kisses trailed down her jaw.
--------------------------------------------
there was every chance, that she had taken it too far this time, from the days they had just been friends, she had loved surprising lando. the genuine awe that he wore on his face each and every time even if it was something small had kept her addicted to the habit, but this?
god he was going to kill her.
it felt like she had been travelling none stop all day. on the phone to various different people, bribing the media guys at mclaren for favors and information. bargains made with andrea and zak as she checked a few things over. now she was on her way to greece where she would meet lando and martin and well - he was going to love her or he was going to kill her.
it didn't matter how much the surprise in her hands had cost in large donations and pleading with a family that had been ready to take it that this dog was already spoken for. they had thought she was crazy at first, then they'd bribed her with paddock passes for next years silverstone when she had managed to prove who she was. then lots and lots of paper work had needed to be done so that she could even leave england with her surprise again and it was good job the surprise she held in her hands was cute because she had barely slept with all the excitement.
checking into the hotel, with more bribes to the men behind the counter and promises of very big tips for being such accommodating hosts and she was finally on the home stretch to being able to rest. well, maybe, lando would decide that when she let herself into their room.
"lan? love are you home?" she called as she kicked off her sandals in the door way, her hand clamped over a tiny snout to keep the secret alive for just a moment longer.
"in here!" lando called from the bathroom where he was finishing getting dressed for the day, his attention on the clasp of his watch as the footsteps drew closer to him.
"hi baby." the way in which she said it had lando raising a brow before he had even turned to look at her, she was up to something. spinning in his spot lando paused for a second as he took in her face. guilty. then he heard the small noise that had been ingrained into his brain for the past week and his eyes, shit, they grew misty as he took in the small creature in her arms.
"baby...." he asked cautiously as he took in the sight before him. "what did you do?"
"are you mad at me? please don't be mad, i just, you were so happy lan i haven't seen you smile like that in so long and look." holding up her hands she lifted their new puppy so that he was face to face with lando and she watched as her boyfriend melted before the puppy, hands reaching out to take him from her. "hi little man, i missed you." lando beamed softly as he buried the puppy under his chin, the small creature immediately at ease with the smell he seemed to recognise from lando, little teeth finding the necklace he wore.
"love, we said we didn't have the time for a dog." lando urged but the battle was already won.
"i know i know, but i made a schedule of at least the next three months on the plane over, alex is happy to watch him with leo in the one week that we're both totally unavailable and i spoke to zak and andrea, on the weekends i can't have him, they're happy for him to be at races with you. he's your soul dog lando." she fought back as she stepped into the arm that lando had offered out to her.
"i thought you were flying for work." he chuckled gently as he felt their puppy lick at his hand, moving to do the same to his loves just as quickly. "but i love you so fucking much you know that?" lando wasn't sure, what the hell he'd done in the past to deserve her, but he adored her with his whole heart. "we have a dog. i can't believe you would do this for me."
"we have a dog lan. and i love you, i love you so much there isn't a thing i wouldn't do for you." she beamed, laughing pouring from her as she scratched behind tiny puppy ears. "i also had to give away paddock passes to convince another family not to take him, if you could organise those for me." she muttered quietly earning herself a loud laugh from the driver.
"damn baby, you're something else." but he'd do anything for her, she'd flown for a damn puppy for him. "what are we going to name him?" he asked quietly
"i've been calling him rover, since he's going to be wandering all over the world with us, but we can change it, he's your dog." looking at the pair of them, she knew she had done the right thing, his smile was bad and the puppy was utterly in love with him. now she would always have a little ally in making sure that they kept lando smiling, just the way he was right now as he looked down at her.
"no i love it." lando thought it was perfect, just like his little family. "welcome home little rover, we see you."
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