#my guy just misses his family and his silly little job

[swirlingyouintomypoems]

"You're gonna stand there with a hundred something bodies on you and tell me I'm unfit for duty?"

Ykw that was toxic as hell but like. get his ass.

[not-neverland06]

forgotten promises

pt two of broken promises (I know I'm so creative with names)

bodyguard!logan howlett x fem!runaway reader

a/n: SMUT 18+ MDNI they, like, never use protection (don't be silly, sheathe your willy) but I’d like to make it 100% clear now that she has a magic uterus and there will be absolutely NO baby-making. Just rocking unprotected sex 😎👍 If you’re tagged in this, it does not mean that I am permanently adding you to my taglist. It just means I saw you in my comments/reblogs/inbox asking for a part two and this was the easiest way to let you know I made one. If you would like to be added to the taglist, feel free to ask.  Summary: Life on the road isn't exactly glamorous. Cramped spaces and too many cheap motels have you and Logan at each other's throats. You feel eyes tracking you everywhere you go but you're afraid to tell him, afraid it will be the end of the road for the both of you. One cheap bar and an explosion later and your whole life is flipped upside down.

“What are you doing?”

You glance over Logan’s shoulder at the register. The man behind it isn’t looking at either of you, just disinterestedly scrolling through his phone. 

“Isn’t this what you do?” You ask, motioning to the pack of beef jerky you’re stuffing down your jacket. 

Logan scoffs and shakes his head. “No, kid.” He takes the bag from you and rolls his eyes. 

“Well, then how do you pay for this stuff?”

“Normally, with the money I get from my jobs. But your dad wasn’t too forthcoming with my last paycheck.”

You feel that familiar burning churn of guilt roiling around in your gut. You’ve definitely added another complication to his life and it makes you feel like nothing more than a burden sometimes. “Oh, Logan, I’m sorry.”

Logan glances down at you. He gives you that familiar appeasing look, squeezing you closer, and drags you towards the register. He tosses the snacks and drinks onto the counter. The guy just barely glances up at you both. 

“Will that be all?” He asks in a tone that says he could care less. 

“Yeah,” you answer, eyes drifting towards the magazine rack. Your face is plastered on the cover of a cheap tabloid. 

LOCAL POLITICIANS DAUGHTER STILL MISSING

Exclusive interview with family on PG. 6

Your eyes go wide and you turn your face further into Logan’s chest. He gives you a confused look before his eyes are snagged by the same thing that caught your attention. 

“Why don’t you go wait in the truck?” You nod and slip out of his hold, being mindful to keep your face away from the security camera near the front. 

That keeps happening. You hadn’t thought you would have made news, but your father was making this a part of his campaign. Claiming you’d been taken by a mutant bodyguard and that he’s been praying for your safe return. “Experts” have been claiming that with no ransom demanded you’re being turned into a message for anyone who goes against mutants. 

Now, mutants despise you and everyone else thinks you’re a martyr. In a few years, you’re sure you’ll be turned into some true crime documentary where people you’ve never met before are crying over your disappearance. 

You slide into the truck and let out a deep sigh. You’d thought running away would be freeing. But even a hundred miles from him, you can still feel the cold grip of your father’s hand around your throat. 

“Twenty on pump seven,” Logan tosses the cash on the counter, eyes drifting to you in the truck. It was instinct at this point, always keeping an eye on you. Especially since one of your father’s more fanatic supporters had spotted you in a shitty diner a week ago. They’d called the cops and tried to bar you and Logan from leaving. 

It hadn’t gone over well for him. 

He’d been trying to keep you a little more hidden since then, but it left a sour taste in his mouth. He’d gotten you out of that house to show you what real life was like, to give you a taste of freedom. 

He felt like he was no better than your father, keeping you cooped up and covered constantly. 

When the kid in front of him doesn’t say anything, Logan clears his throat. He gives him a quizzical look but the boy’s eyes are stuck on the door. 

“I swear I know her,” he mutters. Logan’s eyes drift towards the TV behind the counter and he sees an old news story of you. They’re using the footage of the acid attack, claiming you’ve always been the mutant movement’s target. 

“Can I get twenty on pump seven,” Logan repeats, voice firm. The kid finally looks at him and whatever expression Logan is wearing is enough for him to finally start moving. 

The second the receipt is in his hand he’s rushing out the door. He doesn’t know how long it’s going to take that dumbass to piece two and two together but he can’t risk dawdling. 

He fills the tank up, eyes scanning the gas station the entire time. He’s had a cloying sense of paranoia ever since the incident in the diner. He knows that at some point this little run of yours is going to come to an end. 

He doesn’t know if it’ll end with cops finding the two of you. Or if you’re going to realize the real world isn’t all that fun and leave him behind. He knows that a girl like you, one who's used to the finer things, is never going to be satisfied by the life he can offer. 

But he’s hoping that you come to your senses later rather than sooner. He’s enjoying traveling with you a lot more than he wants to admit. 

He gets in the truck, starts it up, and glances over at you. You smile, the smile that makes him feel things he doesn’t like admitting to himself or you. 

“All good?” You ask. 

He nods, driving off without a word because he doesn’t want to tell you the truth. Doesn’t want to admit what you both know to be a fact. The time you have together has an expiration date and he’s worried it’s creeping closer. 

Logan’s inside some shitty roadside motel. Whatever he’s talking about with the owner is clearly getting heated. You can see the way the anger’s growing on his face. His body is tensed up and he looks like he’s five seconds away from leaping over the counter and taking the greasy man leering at him down. 

There’s a final word exchanged between them and then Logan is storming back towards the truck. He slams the door closed so hard you’re surprised the windows don’t shatter. Normally, you sleep in the trailer. It’s not always the warmest or coziest, but you make it work. 

It’s too cold out tonight to do that and Logan doesn’t have a spare tank for the heating. He’d thought he’d had enough for a cheap room for tonight, but clearly, he doesn’t. There’s a tense silence in the truck as you mentally debate saying anything to him. 

His fists are wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel you can hear it creaking. You shift, sitting up straighter in your seat and uncurling your legs. There’s a stiffness to your joints that has you groaning. It’s involuntary, ripped out of you simply because you’ve been sitting for too long. 

It catches Logan’s attention and he glances over at you. There’s a resigned sort of guilt on his face and it makes you feel sick to your stomach. He’s used to this type of lifestyle, and sometimes you think he’s embarrassed to share it with you. 

You’d never judge him for roadside motels or living off cheap gas station meals. You know you were privileged living up with the wealth you did. But there is something infinitely more satisfying about being poor and happy than there ever was being rich and miserable.

“Look, kid,” he lets out a heavy sigh and you mentally prepare yourself for what you’ve been expecting. You were a fun time, a nice ride, but you’re becoming a burden and he can’t deal with it anymore. 

You let your nails dig into the thin skin of your palms so you can attempt to ground yourself. “I need to make some money tonight, so I just need you to bear with me for a while.”

Like there is every time he doesn’t boot you to the curb, a relieved rush of air expels from your chest almost violently.  “Okay,” you say tentatively, the word dragging out while you try and understand his meaning. 

“I just,” he stops and it looks like he’s struggling to find the words to say to you. You wait patiently for him to finish, or try to at least. “There’s a bar nearby. I’ll find some work there,” his words are ominous. They give you nothing and convey so much. 

Clearly, he’s hiding something from you. You can tell that much from the way he’s avoiding eye contact with you. He pulls out of the motel’s parking lot and turns the radio on. You’ve learned that's his way of telling you he doesn’t want to talk without being a dick about it. 

You want to respect his space because you still feel like an imposter. But it’s hard. He’s being oddly cagey about this. 

The drive is short but it feels like you’ve been transported to an entirely different town than the one you were in before. He takes only backroads and middle-class homes turn into shady shops with barbed fences. Caged dogs bark at the truck as it drives by and you get a sinking feeling in your gut. 

Perhaps it’s a little classist of you to automatically assume a few low-end homes equate to a bad neighborhood. But instinctually you know something is off about this place. 

He parks in front of a run-down bar. Even from here, you can hear loud shouts and jeering coming from inside. You don’t know what’s being said but they’re certainly passionate. Logan turns towards you, the expression on his face so serious you feel like you’re about to be scolded. 

“I need you to stay here. I won’t be gone long, just an hour at most. But you need to stay in the truck.”

Your jaw gapes and you scoff at him. “Logan, an hour that’s rid-”

He cuts you off with a stern call of your name. Your mouth snaps shut and you narrow your eyes at him, teeth gritting together to keep your tongue at bay. “Stay here, I mean it. Got it?”

You nod and he repeats your name, sounding aggrieved. “Fine,” you huff. “I got it.” He lingers for a moment. You don’t know if he doesn’t trust you or is just reluctant to leave you alone. You’re reluctant to be left alone, especially in a shady dark parking lot like this. But clearly whatever is going on inside is worse than whatever could happen to you out here. 

“I’ll be back soon,” he makes this whole thing sound so grave. It makes your brows furrow and doubt churn in your gut. What could he be doing in there that’s so awful?

He gets out and you watch his form under the flickering street lamps until you can’t see him anymore. You sit quietly in the truck for at least three minutes before you already feel the boredom set in. 

You’d thought you’d be able to last longer. You used to go for hours dissociating at your father’s galas. This is different, though. You’re a little afraid to let your guard down here. 

You try to listen to music but you feel bad wasting his gas so you just turn the truck off and huddle under a blanket in the trailer. You try and let yourself fall asleep but you don’t last long. 

It’s too cold outside to really get a good rest and you can hear people moving around outside the trailer. After about an hour of rolling around and frozen limbs, you figure enough is enough. 

As much as you don’t want to provoke Logan or give him any reason to get rid of you, you can’t stay in here all night. Besides, Logan said he wouldn’t be long, you can always just lie and say you were worried about him. 

Satisfied with your excuse you leave the comfort of your blanket behind and slip into Logan’s jacket. You tuck the truck keys in your pocket and walk out into the snowy night. It’s less cold outside than it was in the trailer, you can see why he wanted a motel room for the night. 

A few people linger by the cars, smoking and muttering to themselves. You slip past them, ignoring the feeling of their eyes burning into your skin. You’re sure it's because you look like you don’t belong here. 

The noise in the bar gets louder the closer you get and it reminds you of the night Logan had snuck you out of the house. But you’d had him to lean on, right now, until you find him, you’re on your own. For all the noise coming from the building, the bar is surprisingly empty. 

Only a few old men are sitting around, drinking beers in silence. The bartender cleans glasses behind the counter, sparing you an odd look before getting back to work. There’s not very far for you to look before you figure out that Logan isn’t anywhere nearby. 

“Excuse me?” The bartender spares you a fleeting glance before barely grunting in greeting. 

The floor underneath you tremors and you glance down at it in surprise. You can hear something going on underneath. You figure that has to be where all the noises are coming from. “I’m looking for someone. Tall, mean as hell, he’s got this hair,” you swoop your hands up by the sides of your head, trying to mimic the odd fluff of Logan’s hair. 

“Downstairs.” You nod and move around the bar, trying to get to the door behind him. He reaches out, grabbing your bicep and stopping you before you can get far. “It's a forty-dollar entrance fee, sweetheart.”

Your brow furrows in confusion and you frown as you dig around in your jacket pockets. You’ve come too far to be deterred now. Ignoring the moral implications, you slip Logan’s wallet out of his jacket and give the man forty dollars. 

He nods towards the door and you give him a weak thank you as you slip past him. Opening the door is like breaking a seal. The noises bombard you almost immediately, so much clearer than they were before. 

You still can’t understand what they’re screaming but there’s a violent atmosphere slipping around you as you head down the stairs. The heady smell of cigars and cigarettes threatens to suffocate you. Your eyes water at the smoke in the air. 

You’d think you’d have gotten used to secondhand smoking after being around Logan, but he’s less inclined to hotbox the car if you’re beside him. The second your feet hit the floor you’re being jostled to the side violently by the people around you. 

It’s nearly impossible to elbow your way through the crowd, but you’re determined to figure out what’s in the middle of the cage that’s got them all excited. You can hear the people around you screaming out bets and numbers you don’t understand. 

For one nauseating moment, you think this might be a dog fighting ring, that Logan gambles on it to earn his money. It makes you want to turn around, to shield yourself from the truth. But this is something he tried to keep hidden from you and you need to know the truth about whoever you’re traveling with. 

You can hear the announcer, but you can’t get close enough to see anything yet. “Are you gonna let this man walk away with your money?” There’s a resounding NO! from the crowd that makes you jump. 

A booming voice shouts over the throng of voices, “I’ll take him!” 

“Our savior ladies and gentlemen!” You shove through two men, ignoring the way they complain about how their beer sloshes on their sleeves. 

“Hey-” You glance over your shoulder as one of them reaches for you.  You flick your wrist, sending him and his friend tumbling back into the crowd. You roll your eyes and turn back towards the cage. 

Your eyes widen and so do Logan’s as you finally see what exactly is going on. He’s cage fighting, this is what he’d been so secretive about. Honestly, it’s a relief compared to the brutality you were bracing yourself for. 

You can see his lips starting to form the shape of your name but the man from before is barrelling into his side as the bell goes off. You wince, jumping away from the cage as you hear the meaty impact of his fist against Logan’s face. 

The people near you scream, shouting for Logan’s blood. It’s easy to figure out that he’s been beating everyone he’s gone up against based on some bloody faces in the crowd. It’s smart, easy money. He can always heal, and can never really be beaten, not when he’s literally got fists of steel. 

You’re surprised that no one’s ever caught onto this scam of his. You also wonder why he had been so adamant about you not seeing this. Sure, it’s brutal watching blood spray against the mat. But you don’t care. Besides, he’s ridiculously attractive in just his jeans as he pummels into some guy. 

Maybe that’s not a normal line of thinking. 

You shake your head, shelving that for later as the fight dies down. The man is limp on the mat of the cage and Logan is leaning against the wall, smoking a cigar and pointedly not looking at you. 

You feel that familiar twisting feeling in your stomach and wonder if this was a horrible idea. You should have just stayed in the car like he asked. You’re sure it would have only been another hour of tirelessly rolling around before he came back. But you couldn’t help yourself. 

He tells you so little about himself. If you get a chance to learn more, you’re going to pounce on the opportunity. Maybe it was a violation of his trust. You sincerely doubt that he would ever willingly have revealed this sort of lifestyle to you, though. 

He seems to be under the same misguided intention that you need to be sheltered. It reminds you a little of your father. That might be a cruel comparison but it’s the same suffocating feeling of being kept in the dark to suit their needs. 

The guilt you’d been holding unfurls and blossoms into anger. You find yourself retreating away from the cage and rushing back up the stairs of the bar. You don’t want to watch him fight any longer. You don’t want to look at him. 

You just want him to treat you like an equal. Not like some little girl who’s going to run at the first sign of things getting hard. 

You burst through the door of the bar, ignoring the cold laughter of the bartender behind you. He clearly seemed to think you couldn’t handle a little blood. He wasn’t the only one. 

You’re only a couple of feet from the truck when you hear footsteps loudly stomping through the snow behind you. “What the hell were you doing?” You scoff, unbelieving that he would have the gall to shout at you. 

You whirl around on him and it catches him off guard. His right foot slides against the slush as he tries to stop himself from ramming into you. “I’m not a little girl, Logan! You don’t need to hide stuff like that from me.”

He crosses his arms and glares down at you. “I wasn’t hiding anything,” he insists. But the tone of his voice gives him away. He doesn’t like that he was caught. “I don’t need to tell you jackshit about what I do for money.”

You can’t believe how he sounds right now. Why is he getting so defensive about this? “I don’t care what you do for money, alright. I just don’t get why you felt like I couldn’t know about this.” You hate the way the hurt is audible in your voice. You wear your heart on your sleeve, even when you try and cover it. 

In the same way, he’s masking his feelings with anger, so are you. Just with less success. Something draws across his face, some emotion you can’t discern. His voice goes cold and quiet as he shoves an envelope full of cash into your hands. 

“Go back to the motel. Get a room.”

He storms past you and walks towards the trailer. You follow after him, slightly dumbfounded by how he’s behaving. He rips his motorcycle out from the back and rolls it into a parking spot. You watch him do all this with your tongue glued to the roof of your mouth. 

It’s only when he starts to head back towards the bar that you realize he’s not coming with you. “Logan!” You call out, trailing after him slightly. He barely turns back to face you. “Are you,” the words die on your tongue and you can’t find it in yourself to finish. 

Are you angry?

Are you leaving?

Are you going to ditch me at the next bus stop?

Instead of asking any of your ridiculously pining questions, you turn on your heel and storm towards the truck. You rip the door open with more force than necessary and drive off without looking back at him. But you know he watches, know he keeps an eye on you until he can’t see you anymore. 

Your rides with him are normally silent, but this one feels painfully so. 

You nearly get a room with two beds. But you feel like if you do it will be a horrendous mistake. Reluctantly, you give the man behind the counter enough for a room with one bed large enough for the both of you. 

You’re not exactly excited about sharing a bed with him, not after how he behaved tonight. You grumble to yourself as you drag your bag inside and toss it on the ground. You picture putting up a wall of pillows between the two of you, just to be petty. 

It’s as you’re showering that you realize you might not even have to. He might not come to join you tonight. He won’t know what room you’re in. And he’d made it pretty clear how pissed he was at you for sneaking into the bar. 

Maybe you’ve finally pushed him too far. You’ve been toying with the boundaries of his patience for a while. Little tests to determine whether he truly wants you around simply to have a warm body ready beside him. Or if he wants you because he genuinely cares for you. 

You suppose tonight, whether you want it or not, you’ll finally have the truth. 

The thought keeps you awake. You toss and you turn for hours, fighting with yourself. You should be happy, finally figuring out what’s been haunting you. But you’re not. You’re petrified. You’d rather keep living a lie than finally accept that he truly doesn’t want you. 

You throw the covers off, the scratchy material only further adding to your irritation. You stomp into the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind you. You turn on the sink splashing some cool water over your face to try and rid yourself of the warmth lingering under your skin. You don’t know if this feeling of being uncomfortable in your own body is from pent-up anger or anxiety. 

You don’t care. You just want to sleep this night away and pretend it never happened. But, of course, the universe has other plans. The motel door creaks open as you’re hovering over the sink, debating whether or not you’re nauseous enough to throw up. 

You tilt your head slightly towards the sound. Growing up in your house, filtering through rooms like an unheard ghost, allowed you to get good at recognizing footsteps. Logan has finally decided to grace you with his presence. 

You listen to him as he creeps silently across the room, landing on the squeaky bed. You press your ear against the door and can hear the way the sheets rustle and he cusses under his breath. There’s worry staining his voice and you figure you shouldn’t drag this on much longer. 

You open the bathroom door and flip the switch, turning the lamps on like a disappointed mother waiting up for her teenager. You cross your arms mutely and lean against the doorframe as he winces under the sudden light. 

He jumps, just slightly, and glares over at you. “Thought you weren’t here,” he accuses. He tries sounding angry, but you have a sudden rush of clarity in that moment. Where you would normally focus only on him being upset with you, you can see the truth of his concern.

Same as you, he doesn’t know where he stands in this whole situation. You doubt he had a clear plan when he rescued you from your tower like some ridiculous storybook knight. He most likely thought that you left, the same way you thought he would. 

You remain silent, though, still a little too flustered to speak coherently. Instead, you examine him. There are cuts and blood all over his shirt. Splatters of it on his face. Though, you know if you looked there would be no physical evidence of him ever being hurt. 

His brows furrow the longer you stare, a wall building between the two of you. “Kid?” He questions, equal parts worried and defensive. Does he really think you actually give a fuck about him fighting?

You shake your head and walk back into the bathroom. You rustle around in the cabinet underneath the sink until you find a washcloth. Wetting it, you bring it back out to him. You station yourself between his spread legs, holding the cloth between you like a peace offering. 

He looks doubtful as he glances between you and it. Finally, he lets out a rough sigh and simply nods his head. But when he reaches for it you snatch it back, much to his chagrin. You offer him a small smile and tilt his chin up towards you, gently wiping some of the dried blood off his cheeks. 

He doesn’t flinch or hiss away from the less-than-gentle fabric. He stares at you unblinkingly, like if he closes his eyes for a moment he’ll wake up and this will all have been a dream. “You don’t have to do this, kid.”

You roll your eyes and crane your neck to get a better look at him. “Would you shut up?” You whisper teasingly. 

His lips quirk slightly and you can see his shoulder slump in relief at the sound of your voice. “So, she can talk.” You can’t help the little laugh that comes out of you. He grins fully at that and his hands come up to rest on your hips. 

His thumbs rub soothing circles along the sides of your waist as his hands dip a little lower. “What are you doing?” Your hand drifts down to his neck to wipe some blood off there as well. 

He shakes his head and shrugs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You lift your gaze to his and your lips fall flat, “Logan-”

He cuts you off before you can finish. In one smooth motion, his hands drop to wrap around your thighs. He lifts you slightly and drops you onto his lap. He grins at the slight huff of surprise that rushes out of you. 

His arms go back to your waist, pulling you closer to him and grinding you a little against him. You bite your lip to stop any noises from escaping. As much as you wouldn’t mind what he’s thinking, you need to talk. 

“Logan,” you scold. 

He smirks and tilts his head patronizingly, “Something wrong, sweetheart?”

“It’s not happening,” you tell him firmly, hand still working on cleaning him. 

He sighs and one of his arms drops away from you. He cups your hand in his, stilling your movements and forcing you to meet his gaze. Gently, he takes the cloth from you and tosses it somewhere you can’t see. “I’m fine,” he whispers, eyes searching yours. 

It’s hard meeting his gaze. The worry and anxiety from the night still weigh heavily on your shoulders. He repeats himself, fingers tilting your chin up to face him. “Alright?”

“I don’t care,” the words come rushing out of you before you can stop them. His brows raise in shock and he gives a slight chuckle of amusement. A lump grows in your throat and your eyes grow wide. “Wait, I don’t mean-”

You cut yourself off and rub your hands over your face, trying to get your head on right. Logan’s patient, rubbing your back and clearly trying not to laugh at you. You finally take in a deep breath and face him again. 

“I don’t care about the fighting,” you can see his shoulders tense slightly like he doesn’t believe you. “I don’t care, Logan. You do what you have to survive and I’m not gonna judge you for that.”

“What if I enjoy it?” He cuts you off, tone harsh as he glares down at you. There's experience in how quickly he doubts you, how quickly he tries to get you to change your mind about him.

You wonder how many times he’s been rejected just for being a mutant. You’ve only ever been rejected by one person because only he ever knew. Your father. And that hurt enough for one lifetime. 

You can’t imagine going for as long as he has and constantly being called a monster for something he can’t control. Your brows furrow and you lean into him until your lips are brushing. He remains stiff beneath you but you don’t let it deter you. 

“I don’t care,” you tell him, pressing your lips to his before slowly pulling back. You wait for him to respond, physically or verbally, but he’s still looking at you with that cold unfamiliar gaze. 

You wonder if maybe it was a mistake, to bring it up at all. But just as the thought comes he’s surging forward. His lips catch yours, his hands digging so desperately into your shirt you know it rips. 

Your arms go to his neck, holding onto him so you don’t slip off his lap. You haven't been this close for a few days. You think it might have made you both feel on edge. There’s a relief that comes from not just having sex with him, but also just being intimate and close to one another. 

It’s a reminder that you’re not alone, that there’s someone here beside you to be a partner and a pillar of stability. You’ve never had that before. Someone that you can rely on and trust fully. You don’t think he has either. 

He craves you the same way you do him. Each kiss, every shared breath, is treated like it will be your last. You don’t know when your father will finally catch up to the two of you. You don’t know when the police might finally recognize Logan. 

There’s no definitive future for either of you. It’s a real possibility that this could be your last night together. And neither of you wants to be upset with each other. Because you were never truly mad. You were always just worried. 

Your hands drop to his shirt, dipping to find the holes in it from his fight and ripping at the flimsy fabric until you can just yank it off. He smiles against your lips at the eager way you move atop him. But he can’t tease you, he’s already annoyed with the buttons on your shirt. 

He pulls back, glaring down at the fabric like it's insulting him. Without another word, he slices through it, leaving it in tatters on your shoulder. You grin, shrugging the rest of it off. “That was yours.”

He grips your hips tightly and leaves marks where his fingers are as a reminder that he was here. He flips you over, leaves you breathless as he hovers over you. “I really don’t give a fuck, sweetheart.”

You’re addicted to his voice. How breathy and desperate it is when he’s with you. It’s a level of vulnerability you rarely get to see from him. He can’t hide himself when he’s with you like this. He wants you just as badly as you do him. 

It gives you a confidence rush like no other, makes your ego grow ten times its size. If you can make a man like this fall to his knees from nothing more than a kiss, then you’re capable of a lot more than you give yourself credit for. 

But you don’t want that tonight. You reach for him before he can go much further, grabbing him by his hair and tugging until you know it stings. He nearly fucking moans at your rough touch, eyes fluttering open to meet yours. The green of them has been wholly consumed by his desire for you and it makes you ache for him. 

“Not tonight,” you tell him. There’s no room for argument in your tone. As much as he might want to taste you, devour you, all you want is to be as close to him as possible. You want to be covered and filled by him in every way you can be. 

His head falls against your thigh, a rough groan tumbling from his throat at your words. You drag him towards you, pulling him up your body until you’re face to face. You smile softly up at him, lifting your head so you can meet his lips again. 

You’ll never get enough of kissing him, of tasting him. Sometimes you have to stop yourself from reaching across the seats and kissing him while he drives. You’ve nearly made him wreck a few times and forced him to pull over so you could both have some fun in the back. 

Addiction isn’t the right word for what you feel for him. It brings along its own negative connotations. The taint of dependency and toxicity. With addiction, it’s a parasitic relationship, hurts you but makes you feel good. 

This is just goodness. This is a kind touch for the first time in your life and finally feeling safe in someone elses arms. This is opening yourself up to him fully and not once feeling like you need to mold yourself into something else to make him happy. It’s accepting him as he is, a broken dog who likes to fight to punish himself. You don’t want to change him or make him “better.” You just want him to be happy. 

You use your powers to help yourself, flipping him over and straddling his hips. You drag his jeans down his legs and flick your wrist, sending them flying somewhere across the room. He watches you with eyes filled with awe, hands drifting over your curves like something to be worshipped. 

You know he’s waiting for it, for you to sink yourself down on him and finally be filled. But you wait, hover over him even as the muscles of your thighs tremor. “You don’t hide things from me anymore,” you warn him. You’re not asking, for once, you’re demanding what you want. 

He doesn’t look angry like you’d been expecting. Instead, it only seems to turn him on more. “Ya know,” his hands drift to your hips, dragging you down and over his cock until it’s wet with your want. Your nails dig into his chest until there’s blood beading under them and you’re trying not to let your noises slip out. 

“I kinda like it when you’re all bossy like this.” 

“Logan,” you grit his name out. It takes everything in you not to look as affected by him as you feel. “No more hiding shit.”

He leans up on his elbows. His hand drifts to the nape of your neck and drags you down until your lips are nearly touching his. “Yeah, I got it, sweetheart.”

Like a taut rope being cut, you sink into him, your hips finally drop and he guides you down every inch of him until you feel like you’re so full you can’t breathe. He lets you linger for a moment, and get used to this feeling while he steals the very air from your lungs. 

He’s greedy with the way he touches you. His hands always moving like he’ll never fully be satisfied with how much of you he can feel. He’s always reaching for you like he needs to make sure you’re actually real and not just something he’s dreamt up. 

Even with how impatient he is, you’re always the one that moves first. You roll your hips over him, moaning at how he feels inside you. It’s like he’s perfectly molded you around him. He always manages to brush against the spots that make your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

The second your hips begin to roll, he’s wrapping his heavy arms around you, grinding you down into him. He keeps you trapped in place, using you like a toy as he bounces you on his lap. Your mind is fuzzy, every bad thought and feeling shoved out while he makes you go dumb on his dick.

You love how boneless you go. You don’t have to think now, don’t have to worry. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, shifting yourself further on top of him until you're practically burying yourself under his skin. 

Not thinking always comes with its own consequences, though. Your powers slip a little out of your grasp. The walls trembling and the drawers and cabinets opening and closing. The both of you have gotten used to the noise, know how to drown it out, and just focus on each other. 

One of these days, you’ll need to figure out a way to have sex with him without bringing the room down around you. That’s a problem for later though. His whispered praises and grunts of your name filter through your mind until there’s nothing left inside you but him. 

“Fuck,” he hisses in your ear, “you’re so fucking tight around me. You close?” He grunts, hand drifting down to rub tight circles on your clit. You dig your nails into his shoulders, nodding your head frantically against his neck. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Shit,” you can barely think of your own damn name. Let alone what you want from him. “Fuck off,” you hiss. He chuckles at the attitude and you almost expect him to stop, just to be a dick because you were a brat. 

But he’s just as close as you are and he’s too selfish to tease. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes down on you as your body shakes against his. He follows quickly after you, warmth shooting up inside you and almost leaking down your thighs. You feel stuffed, like your body’s been pushed to the limit and further. 

You both sit together in silence for a while. You ignore the way your skin sticks to his uncomfortably, instead reveling in the warmth he provides you. Anyone else, and you’d be rushing to get away from them. 

You’re always extra sensitive after sex, every little thing setting you off. But there’s a comfort to the way his hairy ass chest brushes against your breasts and his arms squeeze around you. It’s a nice grounding feeling. 

The tips of your fingers drift over his arms, following the path of his veins and brushing against his fingers lazily. He flips his palm over, encasing your hand in his own wordlessly. Little things like that ease your worries. Makes you feel like something more than just a quick fuck. 

He breaks the silence first, which is rare for him. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

You frown and peer up at him. “I told you, I don’t care about the fighting.”

He sighs and shakes his head, “Not that. I shouldn’t have gotten so fucking mad at you. You didn’t do anything wrong.” You want to interrupt him, assure him that you both acted pretty childishly. 

But you understand it’s difficult for him to express himself verbally. He usually prefers silent acts of apologies and expression, you don’t want to mess him up before he can get out what he wants to say. 

“I don’t want to be like your father.” Your face screws up a little and you shift uncomfortably on his lap. He loosens his grip, giving you room to leave if you want to, but you stay put. “I’m trying not to coddle you, sweetheart, or hide you away from the world. But I don’t like you seeing that shit.”

“You’re not my dad, Logan. He wouldn’t give me a choice,” you try and joke but it just seems to make him more irritated. Sighing you straighten up, bracing yourself on his chest and staring down at him. 

Your head tilts to the side in contemplation and he almost looks uncomfortable under the attention. “I’m not so fragile or sheltered that I’m going to shatter at the first taste of the real world, Logan. I mean, for god’s sake, I’ve had acid thrown at me and bodyguards since I could walk. I know how dangerous it is. Whatever you want to hide from me, I’ve seen worse.”

You let your words sink in for a moment and he looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. You know that it’s odd for him, to comprehend a girl who was afraid to go into a bar swallowing down an illegal fighting ring like it’s nothing. But you’re not lying. Everyday little things are what you’re unused to. But you’ve lived alongside violence your whole life. 

“Look, fighting, sleeping in shitty motels, and your truck, that doesn't bother me. But I don’t like when you hide things and I don’t,” you take in a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the worst. This is what you’ve been trying to tell him for weeks. 

A few little words have your tongue tied and make you desperate to cover yourself up again. He can see the shift in your expression, and feel how tense you get. He sits up a little more, thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of your hand. 

“I don’t want to just be someone to fuck you, Logan. I didn’t come with you so you’d have easy access pussy,” he looks thoroughly amused at your crude words, but there’s something else lingering in his expression. Something like hurt. 

“Is that what you think?” He asks, tone distant. You can’t find the words so you simply nod. He sighs and shakes his head. He eases you off his lap and you worry you’ve truly fucked this up somehow. 

He goes into the bathroom, returns with a wet washcloth. He still doesn’t speak and you’re on edge the entire time he cleans the both of you up. You can see he’s thinking, biting his tongue, and trying to figure out what it is that he wants to say to you. 

You’re impatient, five seconds away from just demanding a response from him. He tosses the cloth and drops into bed beside you. You draw the sheets up to your chest, glaring down at him while he rubs his hands over his face with a tired sigh. 

When he opens his eyes again he laughs at how close you are. “Jesus,” he wraps an arm around your waist, dragging you down into his chest even though you fight him. It must be easier for him to speak when you’re not staring at him. 

“I didn’t go back for you so I could fuck you, kid. I… care about you,” there’s a long pause before he says the word care. You think it’s funny, that he can’t bring himself to admit what he actually feels. But you’ll take it, you’ll give him the time he needs to come to terms with the truth. 

For now, you let yourself fall asleep, feeling just a little bit better about the road ahead. 

Things get easier between the two of you. And somehow harder at the same time. You don’t walk on eggshells around each other, no longer afraid of scaring the other off now. Which also means that you find it easier to bicker with him about little things. Like, not just tossing his trash everywhere in the truck. You’re practically living out of the trailer, the least he could do is help you keep it tidy. 

You know it’s weird for him. Suddenly having someone nag at him not to be a slob or to take breaks in between driving so he doesn’t wear himself out. It’s an adjustment you see him struggle with sometimes. 

You try not to be too pushy, but there’s only so many times you can flick crumbs from his burgers off your seat before you lose it. “Logan!” You snap, glaring at him as you stand up only to find chip crumbs squished into the fabric of your leggings. 

He glances over at you and shrugs, “What?” 

You glance between the crumbs and him with a glare but he doesn’t seem to be connecting the dots. “Fucks sake,” you grumble, passive-aggressively wiping the truck seat off before you slam the door and storm towards the diner. 

You’re sick of being cramped in the truck. You’re sick of the greasy food. You’ve begun to crave salads lately. Which is beyond weird. But the novelty of shitty food and milkshakes wore off a hundred miles ago. 

Logan catches up to you, huffing with irritation as he swings the door open for you. You take a seat in the booth near the corner, snatching up the menu and pointedly staring at it and not him. “Really?” He demands. When you don’t answer he tips the menu down, forcing you to meet his gaze. “What is your problem?” He hisses, trying not to draw attention to you both. 

You lean in, voice a harsh whisper. “How hard is it to just not make a mess? We live out of that damn truck, the least you could do is keep your crumbs on your side.”

He rolls his eyes and leans back in the booth. You’re both sick of having the same fight. But there’s really nothing else to do anymore. When you’re stuck together for so long, it’s the small things that get to you. 

You’re going to say more but the waitress pops in front of you out of nowhere. “Hi!” She beams and gives you her name, the bows in her hair trembling at how hyper she is. “What can I get you both today?”

You and Logan place your orders, and he shoots you an odd look when you only order the salad. “We’ve got a couple more hours ahead of us, you’re gonna get hungry.”

You cross your arms and shrug, “No, I won’t.”

He licks his lips, sucking on his teeth and leaning against the table. “Yes, you will,” he argues with a stern voice. 

You narrow your eyes at him and give him a bitter smile. “Kiss. My. Ass.”

Your stomach grumbles for the third time and you know that Logan can hear it. You’re pointedly not making eye contact with him. It feels like it's louder than the music at this point and you really don’t want to prove him right. 

Without a word, he begins to dig around in the center console. You glance towards him, confused, “What’re you doing?”

He doesn’t say anything, just tosses whatever he’s grabbed onto your lap. You glance down at it and frown. It’s somehow cold as you unwrap it. You pull the parchment paper away and let out a relieved sigh. 

He ordered you a wrap from the diner without you realizing. You take a bite, your hunger steadily easing away. “I’m sorry,” you mutter, pointedly looking out the window. 

He glances over at you and scoffs. “What was that? Couldn’t hear ya, kid.” 

You roll your eyes and turn to glare at him. He’s already looking at you, a teasing tilt to his lips. “I said I’m sorry,” you snap. “I shouldn’t have been a bitch.”

He shakes his head and waves you off. “I haven’t exactly been pleasant myself. I’ll,” he huffs lowly and forces the words out, “clean up more.”  

“I think we’ve just been stuck on the road too long. We’re gonna end up driving each other insane.”

His eyes glance along the signs on the highway. There’s a notice for food and shopping at the next exit and he nods towards it. “We’ll stop at a motel for a few nights. Take a break.” You want to ask him if he’s sure that’s smart. 

It seems risky, to slow down for so long. But you need to walk around, breathe fresh air, and stretch your legs. You’re too selfish to tell him not to stop and keep going. Instead, you nod and smile at him. “That sounds really nice.”

He gives you a slight smile that’s gone as quickly as it came, reaching over and resting his hand on your thigh. You move closer to him and he turns the radio up. You wonder why he doesn’t want to talk anymore but you don’t push it. You’re too excited to finally get out of the truck again. 

The town is nice enough. It’s small, with only a few shops where you buy some new shirts to replace one’s that Logan has torn up. The motel you’re staying at doesn’t have a washing machine so you have to use the laundromat to wash your clothes. 

Logan says he’s going to see if he can find a quick job nearby. You wonder if that means a real job or a more bloody one. You decide not to ask questions, instead taking the little change you have and figuring you’ll try to get the smell of grease out of all your clothes. 

As you load the machine up and put your quarters in you can’t escape the feeling of someone watching you. You’ve been on high alert ever since Logan stole you away from the house. But this is different. 

You’ve gotten used to your own paranoia, you know when it’s real or not. You walk away from the machine, glancing out at the glass walls near the front and trying to see if there’s someone out there. This, oddly enough, doesn’t feel like a police stakeout where they’re going to track you back to the motel and bust Logan. 

This is something different. There is a deep-seated primal fear in you that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Your heart races as your eyes search the dark street outside. What little glow comes from the streetlights isn’t enough for you to clearly make anything out. 

But you feel them, tracking your every move. They’re somewhere nearby, you can’t see them but they see you. You feel sick to your stomach. You glance at the door before racing towards it. You turn the lock, slowly backing away and keeping your eyes trained on the street. 

You look into the shadows and find shapes and movements where there are none. Your eyes spin as your brain crafts a horrible image of some monster waiting outside for you. When the timer for the washer goes off you let out a sharp scream, spinning around and clutching your chest as you glare at it. 

“Fuck’s sake,” you mutter, angrily running your hand over your face and trying to catch your breath. You put the clothes in the dryer and by the time you're done, the feeling is gone. You don’t know if they were never there to begin with, or if they got bored and left. 

You’d told Logan that you didn’t need a ride, you’d just walk the short distance back to the motel. Now, you use the phone on the front counter and call him, telling him you’ve changed your mind after all. 

By the time he picks you up, he looks incredibly concerned. You know you sounded panicked when you called him. You still feel upset about the whole thing. But when he asks what’s wrong you just tell him you got a little scared walking back in the dark. 

You don’t tell him someone was watching you because you know he’ll make you pack up and leave again. You want some stability. Even if it's just for a week. So, as stupid as it is, you lie to him and say everything’s fine. 

When you try to go to sleep that night you feel like you’re being watched again. Even with the curtains closed their eyes burn into you. You toss and turn under the heavy weight of the sheets, struggling to get comfortable. 

There’s a low grumble behind you before Logan throws his arm over your waist and tugs you back into his chest. “Stop movin’ around,” he demands, his voice barely audible. You smile a little at how tired he sounds before forcing yourself to settle down. 

He doesn’t give you much choice, using his body as a weight to keep you pinned. You still feel their gaze, even more now, but his proximity brings you enough comfort to get a little bit of restless sleep. 

Logan’s up before you, he always is. He comes in with cheap coffee and free breakfast from the lounge. You push the sheets off your legs, your shirt sticking to your back from the cold sweat of your nervous sleeping. You feel a little more at ease this morning. 

You wonder if you’re developing some late-in-life fear of the dark. You don’t know why you were so upset last night, you feel perfectly fine now. It’s almost like it was all one bad dream. Logan walks over, handing you the coffee wordlessly and rustling around in your bag for something. 

He pulls out the envelope of cash you keep stashed away and frowns at the contents. “Found a job,” he mutters, stuffing the envelope away and turning back towards you. He leans against the desk, face pensive. 

You rub your eyes, trying to wake yourself up a bit more so you sound coherent. “What is it?” You take a sip of the coffee and your face screws up at the aftertaste. 

“Fighting,” his tone is clipped and you wonder what’s got him up in arms. He walks past you, heading into the bathroom, and closing the door behind him. You tilt your head, gaze following him curiously. He doesn’t normally close the door, he usually likes to invite you to join him. 

Something happened and you wonder if he’s hiding the same thing you are. You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath and closing your mind off to the fear from last night. 

By the time Logan is done in the bathroom, you’re feeling more awake. You can’t just dismiss what happened last night. You’ve never gotten scared like that before. You refuse to ignore your instincts, but you’re also not going to let whoever that was terrify you into going back on the road. 

You don’t want things between you and Logan to grow more tense than they already are. The time away from each other yesterday helped a lot. You no longer want to strangle him when you hear him breathe. You’ll just stick closer to him today and see if you feel the eyes on you again tonight. 

“So,” you start, testing the waters to see if he’s still in a bad mood. He glances over at you, eyebrows quirked in curiosity but you’re tongue-tied as you stare at him. However many weeks you’ve been with him and you’re never gonna get used to seeing him straight out of the shower. 

The towel is draped low on his hips, giving you a taunting look at what lies underneath the white cloth. Droplets drip down his abs and you’ve never wanted to be water more than you do right now. It’s unfair, just how attractive he is. 

You always forget what you’re going to say. You can’t think when he has a shirt off, it’s infuriating. Scoffing, you turn away from him and shake your head. You hear him chuckle, you know he knows what you’re thinking about. 

“What’s wrong?” He creeps up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and tugging you back into his chest. 

“Logan, dammit,” water soaks into the back of your shirt uncomfortably and you tilt your head to glare at him. 

He smirks down at you, “Cat got your tongue, kid?”

You roll your eyes and push away from him. “I can’t even remember what I was going to say.” You snatch a shirt from the dresser and shove it into his hands. “Put this on.”

He scoffs and gives you a disbelieving look. “Are you serious?” You wait for him, gaze expectant. You’re not gonna be able to think when he looks like this. Sighing, he acquieses and tugs the shirt on. His lips fall into a sarcastic line, “Happy?”

Like a switch being flipped you finally remember what you were going to ask him. “The job you told me about. Where is it?”

You can see on his face how little he wants to divulge that information to you. But you know he’s going to tell you. You two made a deal not to hide things, although, you might be breaking your side of that right now. 

“Some shitty bar a few miles from here. Listen-”

You’re not gonna like it. 

I don’t want you tagging along. 

You should just stay here and read or some shit.

You wonder which one he’ll pick today. “You wouldn’t like it, it’s just a shitty little place where I can make some quick cash.” Look at that, it’s rarely ever your first pick excuse. You must be getting better at reading him. 

“I’ll come with you,” you tell him because you’re not asking. You’re not staying by yourself tonight and you both need the money. You grin at him even as his face falls in disappointment. “Maybe I’ll fight.”

He doesn’t even say anything and you immediately regret what you said. The look he’s giving you would put you six feet under if it could. “It was just a joke,” you mutter.

“Wasn’t funny, kid,” he tells you, tone clipped as he moves around you to grab his jeans. “I don’t even want you in those places, let alone fuckin’ fighting.”

You purse your lips and take a seat on the bed, handing him his jacket when he begins looking for it. “I have abilities too, you know. Maybe I could win a fight.”

“Don’t,” he snaps. “I win because I can take the hits people deal me. You can’t,” you don’t bother arguing with him that you heal too. You understand what he means. You might be able to recover physically, but there’s a mental aspect to being knocked on the ground. There’s humiliation and fear in cage fights, you probably wouldn’t be able to handle that side of it. 

He waits for you to say anything else but when he realizes you’ve dropped the subject he lets out a relieved sigh. “You’ll stay in the truck,” he tries. 

You give him a deadpan look, slipping the keys out of your purse and handing them to him. “No way in hell, but I’ll stay by the bar if it makes you feel better.” He stays silent and nods but you know he’ll try and convince you otherwise when you actually get to the place. Tough luck, though, you don’t think it’s safe for either of you to be apart tonight. Even if it’s just staying in the truck. 

The setup of these places is always the same. Though, this bar seems to be particularly disgusting in comparison to other ones you’ve been to. You position yourself near the corner, your back to the wall so you’re less likely to be noticed in the crowd. 

The fights never last more than a few minutes. And that’s if Logan is feeling generous. Most of the time you only need to be here an hour before people get pissed off and go home. Someone bumps into you and you hear a small, “I’m sorry,” before they rush to claim a stool. 

The crowd’s already begun to die out. Most leave while they still have a little money left in their pockets. You duck your head down, catching the eye of the girl who’d bumped into you. She looks young and incredibly skittish. Her eyes keep darting to the tip jar near the bartender. 

She quietly asks for water but the bartender just shakes his head, tugging the jar closer to him. You don’t know why you’re drawn to her, maybe it’s because she looks like one of those sad pound puppies, but you take a seat beside her. 

“Water,” you order, slipping him some change. When he gives it to you, you pass it off to her, spotting the greedy way she eyes it. You know a runaway when you see one, she clearly needs a little help. But Logan’s got enough on his shoulders, you’re not gonna bug him with adding another person to the mix. 

“Thank you,” she gulps it down like she hasn’t drunk anything in days. You feel your stomach twist with empathy. What little cash you have in your wallet, you slip into her bag as you pass by her. Logan will have made enough for it to be spared and it's the least you can do. 

Not everyone is as lucky as you to have someone help them navigate a new life. 

Logan grabs his jacket, wiping blood off from under his nose and heading towards you. You know he’ll want a drink before you go, he always does. Before he can say anything someone’s shouting the name he uses in the cage. “Hey, Wolverine! I want my fucking money back.”

The big man he’d knocked down earlier takes a step towards him. His friend tries to hold him back, but there’s no stopping him. He’s already had his ass kicked once, what makes him think this is going to be any different?

“Not your money anymore, bub.” Logan scoffs and turns back towards you. You just want to leave now. You don’t want to stay for a drink or go get something to eat. You feel the eyes on you again, but when you turn to find them there’s no one there but the girl. 

And she’s not looking at you. Her eyes are wide and staring at something else. “Behind you!” She screeches, and both you and Logan whirl around to find the man barreling towards him with a knife outstretched. 

Logan moves so quickly that you stumble back slightly. He grabs the guy's arm, twisting his wrist until the knife drops to the ground. He shoves him back against the wall, claws out and pinning him there.

“Shit,” you whisper, glancing around as the few patrons of the bar stare in horror at Logan. The people counting his money stop and tuck it back into the cash box. You clench your eyes shut in irritation, he’s not gonna be getting paid tonight, that’s for sure. 

There’s a strange noise behind you, like someone cocking a gun. You turn around slowly, gasping when you see the bartender pointing the barrel of his shotgun at your chest. He’s not aiming it at Logan, he’s aiming it at you. Like he somehow knows that’s the only way to get him to back off. 

It’s not like he was going to kill the guy, besides, he came at him with a knife first. What’s the difference if Logan’s a mutant? He’s defending himself. Why does no one understand that?

“Get out of my bar,” the old man warns lowly, taking a step closer to you. Logan turns around and finally spots what’s going on. 

“Pay me and I’ll be on my way.” You know you’d be able to heal from the shotgun blast, but you don’t exactly want to go through it. 

The old man laughs and shakes his head. “You’re not getting paid, buddy. Get the fuck out of my bar before I put a hole in your little girlfriend.”

Your eyes narrow in disbelief. You debate with yourself for a moment, if this is smart or not. But the guy’s being a prick and you’re sick of people treating mutants like they’re less than nothing. You flick your wrist and the shotgun goes flying out of his hand. 

You glance over at the cashbox and it comes floating towards you, landing easily in your outstretched palm. “Be thankful I’m not blowing a hole in you,” you warn, glaring at the cowering man. You walk forward and he stumbles back and you try not to focus on the sick feeling of satisfaction it brings you. You grab the tip jar and shove it towards the girl at the end of the bar. “Good luck, kid.”

Logan releases the man from the before, taking a step towards you. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and rush towards the exit of the bar. You need to just get the fuck out of this town as quickly as possible, you’re not safe here anymore. 

Logan seems to agree with you. He gets into the truck and doesn’t turn back to the motel. Instead, he turns onto the highway while you keep your eyes peeled on the trees outside your window. There’s someone out there, still following you. 

“Something’s wrong with the suspension,” you glance up from where you’d been working on breaking open the cashbox and frown. Logan’s glaring down at the steering wheel, it seems like he’s struggling to get it to turn properly. 

“What?”

He scoffs and glares at you, “How should I know?” He pulls over to the side of the road, opens his door, and lets in a rush of cool air and snow. You toss the cashbox to the back of the trailer and follow after him. 

He goes to where he’s pulling his motorcycle and you feel like you notice an extra bump under the tarp. “What’s that?” You take a step towards it just as Logan pulls it back. You have to bite back a laugh when you see the girl from last night curled up next to his motorcycle. 

She gives you both guilty looks and slowly sits up. “I’m sorry,” Logan offers her a hand and she gets out of the trailer. He grabs her bag and drops it at her feet. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Find a different ride,” he growls, already heading back to the truck. You open your mouth, prepared to argue, but you can’t force her on him. As much as you might want to help her. She’s better off away from the two of you.

“You’re just gonna leave me here?” She snaps at him, a little attitude finally showing through. 

“Yep!” He gets in the truck and you know he wants to drive off immediately but he has to wait for you. You shoot her an apologetic look as you follow after him, slipping into the seat beside him. He starts the engine, driving off slowly, eyes drifting towards the rearview mirror. 

You bite your tongue, trying not to point out how cruel he is leaving her on a snowy highway in the middle of nowhere. He glances over at you, “What?” He snaps. 

You shake your head and shrug. “Nothing.” You’ve barely finished speaking before he’s slamming on his brakes. 

“God dammit,” he mutters, running a hand over the stubble on his jaw. You can’t help the grin on your face, reaching over to open your door. It doesn’t take long for the girl to catch on, scooping up her bag and chasing after you. 

“You’re such a softie,” you tease him. 

“Shut the hell up.”

Rogue is nice, if not a little odd. She claims to be a mutant too but doesn’t want to give specifics on her abilities. You don’t want to push her but you are curious about the gloves she wears. “What kind of name is Wolverine?” She asks, spotting Logan’s tags. 

He glances over at her and smiles slightly, “What kind of a name is Rogue?”

She goes to say something but you throw your arm out, holding her back as you shout, “Logan, watch out!” He tries to hit his brakes in time but the tree’s already coming down. The truck slams into it and it’s like time slows down, only for a moment. 

You can feel the impact of your body against the windshield, the glass dragging along your scalp and skin. It’s like a million razors each slicing into you. And then, you’re flying through the air, head snapping so hard against the ground you can’t see anything. 

You hear something happening around you, a roar that doesn’t sound human echoing through the air. There’s the sound of metal crunching and someone is screaming in the distance but you can’t see. It’s not like a total void of darkness, there’s just nothing. 

You feel the blood slowly leaking down the back of your skull and something lands harshly against your head. You don’t think much time has passed. When your eyes finally open, however, you’re not lying on the pavement. 

The world around you is foreign. It smells like a hospital but it’s not like any you’ve ever seen. X-rays are hanging on the wall and paperwork is scattered on a desk near the bed you’re lying on. 

Your mind is blank for a moment. Slowly turning back on while you process the sudden change of scenery. You don’t even remember closing your eyes, you don’t know when your vision came back to you or how long you’ve been here. 

The terror sets in quickly. You throw the blankets off your legs, staring down at the pajamas you wear in disgust. Someone had changed you. They’d run tests and done X-rays on you and you don’t remember a second of it. 

You rip the needle out of your arm, tossing it to the floor and running towards the door. Your feet slip on the metal floors as you run but you’re afraid to stop. Everything around you looks more and more like a lab. 

Did someone from the bar call some government agency? You’ve heard horror stories from your father about the tests the military has run on mutants. You’re starting to worry that’s what's happening to you. 

But you doubt the military would make it so easy for you to escape. This has to be something else. You’d heard other voices when you’d been lying on the ground. People who had been trying to help. Could that be who took you?

“You caught on quicker than your friend.” You nearly fall flat on your face, flipping around to see who spoke. But no one’s there. You’re completely alone. “I’m just grateful you didn’t choke out one of my associates.” it’s coming from beside you now. 

It’s all around you, the voice floating through the walls until you think he might be in your mind. “Much faster than your friend,” he sounds gleeful and it makes you even more anxious. “I’m a telepath, darling, nothing to fear. If you’d just take that elevator and come up to meet me.”

You’d have to be an idiot to actually listen to the voices in your head. But you don’t see another way out of here. So, reluctantly, you follow the floating voice’s instructions and slip inside the elevator. 

When the door opens up again you don’t have a chance to step inside before someone’s pushing you back. Logan stands in front of you, hands clamped tightly around your shoulders while he looks you over. 

You sink into his arms, hugging him tightly to you. You’d been terrified you were all alone here. It’s more than a relief to see him again. “You’re okay?” He asks, pulling back to look at you one last time. 

You nod, throat too dry to try and form a coherent sentence. You glance over his shoulders brows furrowed at the people awkwardly watching you reunite. There’s a man in a wheelchair smiling at you, “Ah, glad you could make it.” The floating voice, of course. “Logan here was quite worried about you.”

Logan turns to glare at the man and you offer a slight smile. There is something comforting about him. You’re not exactly threatened by an old guy in a wheelchair. The redhead behind him, however, is bugging you. Something about the way she’s looking at Logan doesn’t sit right with you. 

“Welcome to my school for the exceptionally gifted,” something about the way he says that makes you tilt your head in confusion. You don’t know what he means until there’s a puff of smoke behind him and some kid is walking by with their hair on fire like it’s nothing. 

Mutants. It’s an entire school for mutants. You think you could pass out again. 

“It’s the best place we could have ended up, Logan. This is amazing.” You’ve been going back and forth for an hour. He won’t see reason. He keeps saying you need to leave. That you don’t know these people and it could all be one big trap. 

You don’t understand him, why he’s so desperate to get away from people like the both of you.  You’re rejected in every other corner of society. You could have something real here. 

It hits you at once. That’s the problem. He’s not ready for something real. He’s not used to it because he’s never had it before. At least you could pretend at a sense of normalcy living at home. It’s an entirely new concept to him, sticking to one place for so long. 

“We don’t know these people,” he hisses, leaning over the bed to argue with you. You narrow your eyes but your conversation is cut off by a knock on the door. You sigh, walking away from him and swinging the door open. 

Jean is on the other side, a surprised look on her face when she sees you. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was trying to drop these off to Logan.” You glance down at the towels in your hand and give her a strained smile. That’s a flimsy excuse if you’ve ever seen one. “I must have the wrong room.”

You step to the side, opening the door wider so she can see him. He doesn’t even look at her, too busy angrily unmaking the bed. “No, you have the right one.” You hold your hands out expectantly, “I can just take those for you.”

The look on her face is priceless and finally causes a real smile to grow on your lips. She wordlessly hands you the towels, looking disappointed. You don’t know if it's because of what she was trying to do, or because she couldn’t do it. 

Before she leaves you call out a quick, “Tell Scott I said thank you again. Wouldn’t be here without him, after all.” Her shoulders tense and she rushes back down the hall. Whatever little crush or interest she has with Logan is going to need to be dealt with on her own. 

You’ve got enough shit going on without having to worry about her too. You shake your head and slam the door shut, tossing the towels on the desk. Logan sits on the bed, watching you with an odd look. 

“What was that about?”

“She’s into you,” you tell him bluntly, waiting for his reaction. He doesn’t even blink, just glances between the towels and you before shrugging. 

“Not interested.” You don’t want to admit that you feel any relief. There was never any real doubt. But it’s still nice to be reassured. 

You slip into bed beside him, taking his hand and forcing him to meet your gaze. “I know that this isn’t what either of us was expecting, but this is good, Logan. We don’t have to worry about pretending we’re something we’re not. We don’t have to worry about my dad or anyone finding us.”

He doesn’t look entirely convinced. But he lets out a heavy sigh and drags you closer to him. He tucks your head under his chin, placing a brief kiss against your forehead. “If you want to stay, we’ll stay. But I’m not putting on that fucking costume.”

You laugh a little, peering up at him with a grin, “Deal.” 

There’s a place for you here, even if there isn’t in the rest of the world. You can be safe here, you don’t have to worry anymore. You don’t have to fear the eyes on the back of your head because they can’t get you here. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp ♡ 

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl @allilium @insomniachox  ♡ 

Asked for part two: @enchantedbutterflies @strawberrylore @ittoscumdump @enananawoah @wotcherboo

@cali0101 @fluffy-b33z @pcrushinnerd @izbelross @saltwaterburns

@likeficsinthewnd ♡ 

[landograndprix]

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l c.s ❞ II

part i - part iii

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ Charles is not trying to do his best to safe your relationship but a new friendship is blossoming between you and lando.

➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ thank you so much for the love this fic us getting, it honestly was just a silly idea i had, absolutely insane 😭 google translate is my bestest friend

➽────────────────────────❥

➽────────────────────────❥

➽────────────────────────❥

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by landonorris, manon_roux and 412,322 others

y/nusername the day after hits different when you've got a mini you 🍷

tagged: manon_roux, noellepicard

view all 1,523 comments

manon_roux hangover central over here😩

↳ y/nusername I would too if I drank about every drink available

noellepicard nobody told you to down all that tequila

manon_roux thanks for the support you guys

formulaonef1 Manon being the wildest of them all is not something I expected 💀

julieeeexo oh yeah the day after a night out definitely hits different, I know all about it!

charlieferrari zoë with her little bow 😭

hannahh how do you have time to read? I have a 8 month old and I'm barely able to read 2 pages a day!

↳ y/nusername I'm very lucky with a daughter who never skips a single nap and loves her sleep 😅

joris__trouche just like her mother

y/nusername oh definitely 🥰

landonorizzzz the fact that joris has been paying more attention to y/n than I've seen Charles do in the last couple of weeks is fucking hilarious to me

landoscar and its all too much for little zoë leclerc 😴

carlito55 did you and charles break up?

robyn_diaz had so much fun last night, so glad we got ti meet! 🤩

↳ norrizz isn't this lando's gf? 😂

norry4 unfortunately 😂

norrizz unfortunately??

norry4 she didn't really hide the fact that she's dating lando just for her 5 seconds of fame and money 💀

oscarpastry they're robably just fwb, lando said he was single in an interview couple weeks back

noellepicard mom's big night out, great success

landonorris still alive?

↳ y/nusername barely

landonorris I know the feeling

carlandooo lando...what are you doing here? 👀

charlesherve oh god watch this be the new ship of the fandom 🙄

➽────────────────────────❥

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername posted to their story

➽────────────────────────❥

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 526,009 others

y/nusername les derniers jours de l'été ☀ (the last days of summer)

tagged: charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc

view 1,562 comments

thurthur gotta love the leclerc family 😭

manon_roux mademoiselle fille passe une journée difficile, je vois 😴 (miss girl having a tough day i see)

↳ y/nusername c'est un travail difficile d'être un bébé (it's a tough job being a baby)

manon_roux ..et quelqu'un doit le faire 🥰 (..and someone's gotta do it)

bott_ass take me to Monaco pls

joris__trouche still not an invite? ��

↳ sharl16 joris being abandoned by his boyfriend and his boyfriends girlfriend 😔

arthurlec omg arthur and charles 😭

noellepicard j'espère que tu as passé une bonne journée, hottie ❤️ (hope you had a great day, hottie)

↳ y/nusername toujours 😘 (always)

arthur_leclerc you need to lock your phone better

↳ y/nusername or you could leave it alone?

arthur_leclerc yeah but that's not fun ☺

thurthur stop bullying your brothers girlfriend 😭

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername posted to their story

➽────────────────────────❥

➽────────────────────────❥

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightfdragon

Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalucinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader @champagneproblems17 @norwayxo @sunny44 @honeymoonelvis47 @forevertcaffeinated-lee @amalialeclerc

Lando taglist: @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

New Homes | Platonic Yandere Tweels x Child Reader

“From today on (Y/n), you’ll be hanging out with the Leech family so please…be on your best behavior.” 

Your father was always a little timid. Always speaking with a little quake in his voice. His eyes were always wide darting around. His softer hands like to shake as well. Always wavering even when he held you tight. 

Your father is timid. which is why he warns you when he leaves you with the Leech family. Babysitters always make him nervous. It must be because there are two this time—two babysitters with lopsided haircuts and smiles filled with sharp daggers for teeth. 

“Hello little (Y/n), we’ll be sure to take good care of you.”

“Oi (Y/n), you a swimmer?”

The twins were nice…for teenagers. Other teenagers you knew would sooner shove your head underwater than help you tread it. Other teenagers also didn’t jump at the chance to fight people but that was other teenagers. Not the Leech twins. 

“(Y/n), I told you not to look at Floyd when he’s doing that.”

“But that guy is still holding onto our ice cream.”

“We’ll have some at home. Don’t point at him it’s rude.”

Jade is the twin with his bang on the left side of his face. He’s proper and polite, always doing his best to keep you on schedule. Helping you with your homework when he notices you’re struggling or reading to you when it's time to sleep. 

“Let me blow your nose.”

“Mmm okay.” 

“Good job. Are you ready to go over the edible mushrooms again?”

“Mm okay.”

Floyd is the twin with a yellow left eye and a pitchy voice. He’s loud and silly, always doing fun things that make the day exciting like running in the halls of the manor or playing tickle-monsters when you’ve been working too long.

“I just have to finish these sheets and then I can play!”

“Boooriing!  Let’s just play now!”

“B-but Jade said–”

“Jade can make you catch up later! Let’s get our water guns!”

“Yay!”

They were always so much fun to be around, even work wasn’t so bad with them around. They made a place for you in their giant home. Giving you a room as big as your living room back home, which you slowly filled with the larger souvenirs from your days together.

Speaking of home, it was becoming harder to recall. Trying to remember when you thought of your home if the bathroom was to the left of your room or your father’s. It was an odd feeling that sat at the back of your mind when you looked at the glow-in-the-dark ceiling art. Consciousness fading in and out it didn’t stop your brain from planting the seed of curiosity.

“Why…am I at their house so much?”

Usually, the answer would have been simple. Your father worked late so you had babysitters. But you didn’t go to their house usually. They also didn’t feed or play with you as long as they did but that was beside the point. 

“(Y/n), you’re playing with your food.”

“Oh sorry Missus Leech.”

You made quick work of the beans on your plate, enthusiastically scarfing down what you could. It didn’t feel right to disappoint Missus Leech, while she never once yelled; there was just this feeling about her. One that called for respect. 

“Take your time, (Y/n). I was only worried you’d drift off to sea.”

Looking up at her, tilted your head in confusion.

She let out a giggle. The adult kind that made you feel embarrassed. Looking at Jade, he had an amused smile too, “She means your mind, (Y/n).”

“Oh, I guess a little.”

“What’ya thinkin’ about elver?”

Floyd spoke between bites of food, reminding you to do the same. 

“I just think I miss my home a little bit.”

Taking another hefty bite you missed the disdain on someone’s face. A purposeful cough brought your attention up to the patriarch at the head of the table.

“How are those new shoes we bought together?”

Lighting up at the memory of your new shoes, you barely finished chewing. 

“So cool! Everyone at school thought they were nice too! And I got so many compliments.”

The older man laughed, nodding his head. “Good. Good. Maybe we should go shopping again soon.”

“Okay!”

Dinner went on like usual with dessert ending your time at the dinner table. Letting Jade and Floyd lead you to your bathroom to begin your nightly routine. You fought off the urge to yawn while Jade helped you brush your teeth, failing when he told you to spit. 

“It’s always nice when Mama and Papa come back from trips.” 

Floyd spoke with his back lying on the giant bed, filled with stuffed animals and pillows. He was tossing your clowned fish stuffy in the air catching it with ease. 

Jade still smiling continued buttoning up your pajamas, “Yes, it seems like the trip went well.” 

He looked at you, reminding you to follow him to your bed. “What about you (Y/n)? Did you miss them?”

Your eyelids were feeling heavy. You rubbed them to try to wipe the feeling away.

“Uh yeah.”

Helping Jade shuffle your stuffies around to make a place for you a knock at the door was heard. Floyd must have opened it because by the time you turned Missus Leech was there.

“Mama!” 

Rubbing at Floyd’s head she waved to you and Jade.

“Hi there! I was wondering if I could join you for bedtime?”

You couldn’t tell if The question was for you but if it was Jade answered anyway.

“Of course, Mother. We were just about to read their bedtime story.”

Tucked in next to Missus Leech you let yourself lean against her as she flipped through the pages of the book. Letting her words soothe your mind with the familiar words. Jade and Floyd were close by too making you comfy enough to go to sleep.

When the story was done, everyone gave you goodnight kisses before heading for the door. With the last of your energy, you remembered something important.

“Floyd, are you picking me up tomorrow or Daddy?”

________________________________________________________

The teenager was squeezing the fleshy cylinder shape with an intensity strong enough to bend metal. The crunching and squelching of a man’s neck barely brought comfort to Jade as he continued to squeeze his hands.

“There there Jade, these things take time. It was optimistic that they’d forget by now.”

Unfortunately, the words of his father didn’t calm him down. He headed over to his next target, this time allowing them to throw a punch. Dodging the punch he cradled their hand, maneuvering his arm around until it snapped in the opposite direction. The screaming that followed would have curdled blood for most but it was a lesser result to Jade. Who ended it quickly with a firm kick sent backward and into the skull. The crunch that followed and the abrupt cut to the scream allowed the Leech twin to breathe. 

“I knew they wouldn’t forget. Despite all the work we’ve done. But they still expect him to come.”

His father stepped forward, avoiding the bodies to place a comforting hand on Jade’s shoulder.

“Perhaps he still does…to them.”

Jade’s eyes widened, the implication bringing a stark realization. He turned to his father, his yellow gaze answering the unspoken question. 

To think that with all the work he was saddled with, the sniper still hadn’t abandoned his child. The likelihood was slim but possible. There were quite a few blind spots when it came to the school. Jade had previously ignored them because of the promised security of their contract with the one who wanted him dead. But it seems that wasn’t all they needed to worry about.

“Do you think he plans to take them again?”

“I’d hope not,” entering the warehouse was Fiona Leech having traded out her evening dress for a jumpsuit and shoving a receiver of a baby monitor in her pocket, “our little elver is just about to be settled. It’d be cruel to try moving them again..”

“I don’t think he cares at this point,” Jasper Leech suggested. Pulling out a revolver, he casually aimed and shot the two people tied in the back of the warehouse. He continued, “I hear he’s been getting sloppy with the jobs that one has so graciously allowed him to fix.” 

Jade balanced himself wiping his shoe clean with a rag, chiming in himself. 

“Now he’s trying to go back on his word. Absolute scum.”

“I’d hate for us to pull them out of school, more change is not what that kid needs.”

“I wouldn’t mind limiting my club activities to partake in homeschooling.”

His mother held his face patting his head fondly as she cooed,” You’re a good boy Jade but you have your new job and all those plans I wouldn’t want you to give that up.”

Jasper sighed, scratching the well-groomed stache on his face. “Guess that means we’re ending our contracts early.”

“Seems so…..Now Jade go on get to bed you have school in the morning.”

“Yes, Mama.”

______________________________________________________________

The shade was nice on sunny days. The coolness that came with the blackened space near the fence was like heaven. The spot was farther away from the plastic playground and the other children running all throughout. Minutes ago, you were just like them running wildly at a more loose game of sharks and minnows. 

Past the wood-chipped ground was the back of the school building where the teachers were chatting. Disappearing between the rectangular windows, their attention was on something inside. Distracted enough not to scold you for stepping away from the others. The triumph of your expert timing was the true prize. Relishing in the leaves of the trapezoid-shaped bushes pushing through the fence. Crunchy, tickling, and overgrown the feeling against your back was a minor trait of this sacred place. 

There was also the oddly pressing poke of something warm coming through the hole of the fences. Turning to confirm your suspicions, you smiled.

“Hi, Papa.”

“Hello, my Starlight!”

Turning around to mirror his position you laid on your tummy to look him in the eye. His tactical glasses were off and his hair had changed. His longer hair was gone, traded out for a faded cut. Different but still your father. You let his larger gruffer fingers hold your own through the fence, his hands for once not shaking. 

“Can I tell you all about my adventures?”

“Of course.”

He let you rant, smiling and nodding all along to all your different adventures. You even took off your shoes and showed him the flickering lights in its soles. He waited until you were out of breath before asking the question again.

“Would you like to come with Papa, this time?”

You hesitated kicking your feet against the wooden chips of the playground. 

“Are we going back to our home?”

“...No.”

Tilting your head,” Then are we going to the Jade and Floyd’s?”

The names made him shudder as he hurriedly shook his head. 

“W-we’re going someplace new….”

“Where are we going?”

He rubbed at his eyebrows. He was getting annoyed. But you knew you had to ask otherwise you’d be brought somewhere you hated. Like that one time.

“(Y/n) you’re curiosity is great but—”

“Does where we’re going have a bed? Does it have a kitchen? Are we going to be only eating the gas place’s sandwiches?”

He scrunched his hands into his hair, grasping for his non-existent flowing hair. His lips were quivering and his eyes were watering. It made you nervous, sitting up from your tummy and on your knees. You sent a look over your shoulder at the window–the teachers were still occupied. Looking down at your father, you silently sighed as you got into character.

“Hirano wherever you're taking that little Starlight, it better be the best place for a kid. Those Leech’s are makin’ sure they're on time at school, they're well-fed, and I haven’t gotten a call from protective services for a good while.”

“I know! I know Mama but they won’t let me leave. I screwed up! I screwed up really bad! If I don’t do another job for that guy, he’s going to have my head! B-but I want to go back to normal! I want to spend my days helping (Y/n) with homework and coming home and watching those silly cartoons with my Starlight–”

Your heart was aching and your eyes were getting watery. You waved a hand at your eyes and cleared your throat sticking your hand through the hole to hold his. 

“Y-you’ve got to get your ducks in order before you take your Starlight back–”

“But Mom!”

“Don’t but me…Starlight is safe. You’ve got to make sure you are too before you take them back.”

“But the debt I owe…it’s so big and their patience is thin. I don’t know if I’ll be able to come back….”

Taking a deep breath, you went back to your original position on your tummy. 

“Papa, I’m always going to be here. Safe and waiting for you. So you can go on your work trip I don’t mind.”

He smiled at that reaching through the gate to affectionately bop you on your nose. 

“That’s right…I’m just on a work trip. I’ll be back before you even notice. I’m gone!”

He began to scooch away but you stopped him calling for him to come back to the fence. You kissed his forehead and he kissed yours.

“I’ll….see you when you got back Papa….”

“Yup! You know it! If you need anything just ask your grandma, okay?”

“...Okay…”

Like that, he disappeared. 

You were left to stare at the disfigured leaves and dying branches. Burning the memory of his face into your mind.

“(Y/n)! Your brother’s here to pick you up.”

It took you a minute before you stood up again. Frantically wiping at the water streaming from your eyes, you waited until your throat was no longer croaky to finally respond.

“Coming!”

It was all a blur, saying goodbye to your friends and packing your backpack. The memories of the sweet older lady you used to spend so much time with. She taught you how to help your father, explaining the work he was in. It made your head hurt. Thinking about it now, you can say that’s why you stay at the Leech’s house so much.

“Ready to go little elver?”

“Yeah,” you stuck your hands up while he brought you up higher supporting you with his arms. You didn’t want to but you let your gaze fall on the disfigured spot in the bushes behind the playground fence. 

Floyd glared at the spot.

“What’s over there, (Y/n)?”

Visualizing him one last time. You’re glad you could say goodbye. Curling your head into his uniform’s collar, you blinked your extra tears away. 

“Nothing anymore…let’s go home, please.”

You missed the smile on Floyd’s face, laughing to himself as he made his way to the family car. 

“As always, little elvie!”

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hi!! Can i request a hurt/comfort hotch x reader?

Reader is starting to feel lonely in the relationship cause for the past 2 months hotch has only been home for a week total and she really misses him. They haven’t had time to themselves cause even when hotch is in virginia he’s in the office and him getting called out on a case during his day off happens more often than the both of them want to. and even when they text and call it’s not the same.

anyway hotch comes home in the middle of the night after a case and he just finds reader on the sofa crying cause she just really misses her boyfriend and the two of them finally talk about it.

You have permission to break my heart with the angst and put it back together. I know its long and i have no clue if it made sense so im sorry😭😭 enjoy your day💕

༉‧₊˚. 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

― pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader

― summary: you knew that being with aaron meant that his job came first, you just hadn't realized how badly it would actually affect you. now, your life and love is on the line.

― warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST!!! you have been warned!, thoughts of breaking up, established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, hints of depression.

― wc: 905

⋆ a/n: my first long fic back being angst LMAOOOO. i'm not going to lie, writing this kind of bummed me out a bit but that's how i knew it was going to be good LOL. but never fear, i got a few smutty things in the works, so keep a silly little eye out for that!! i love you guys so so much and thank you for your request!

masterlist | AO3

The room felt melancholic. Empty. 

The sounds of laughter that had once bounced off of the walls of your home now rang silently, one of the only people that knew of the joy that once made your house a home was long gone on a case right now.

You don’t know what to do. How could you last like this? How could your relationship? How could Jack?

Jack, the precious little boy that you had taken under your wing even before you and Aaron had ever made it official. You knew he missed his father dearly, but with every large life milestone the boy had completed, Aaron had missed out on. It had gotten to the point where Jack doesn’t bother to ask you if he could call his dad to tell him about it, because nine times out of ten, he knew that Aaron wouldn’t answer.

So now as you sit here on the couch in the dark with your head in your hands, you can’t help but think that maybe this was it, that it was time to consider the very dreaded other option. 

You tried your best to make your relationship with Aaron work, God did you try, but having to sit there and endure weeks of radio silence, of not knowing whether or not he was alive was excruciating. When he did have time to text or call you, every conversation was more and more distant. 

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, and your bottom lip trembled. You crossed your arms and placed them on your knees where you leaned on them, staring out into the abyss of your dimly lit living room. You had just put Jack to sleep, and you didn’t want to risk waking him up.

Your eyes solemnly scaled the walls where the pictures of your little family hung, frames upon frames of happy smiling faces. 

What happened?

It was the fact you were absolutely drowning in your thoughts that you didn’t hear your front door unlock – something that your boyfriend would deeply frown upon. 

Aaron wasn’t surprised to find the apartment quiet, what he was surprised to find was your silhouette illuminated by a single lamp. What really set off the alarms in his brain was your shivering shoulders, which could only mean one thing.

“Sweetheart?” His deep voice pierced the thin air hovering above you. You just shook your head, any happiness that would have left your mouth died in your throat, the words leaving you was, “We have to talk.”

You hated doing this, but who’s to say he won’t get called in tomorrow? No, you had to do this now.

Aaron felt his heart fall into his stomach as he made his way over towards you, gently sitting down on the cushion next to yours, almost as if he was afraid to scare you.

“Of course. Are you okay?” He inquired in concern. You just shook your head again. “This isn’t working, Aaron.” The pain lacing your voice was unmissable. “What?” He’s completely caught off guard, because this was the last thing he’d expected to come home to.

“I can’t do this anymore… unless – unless we can figure something out but even then I-” He rushes to grab your hand, and it lays limp and cold in his warm and calloused one. “Honey please, what’s wrong? Tell me what I can do.” Holy shit, he’s panicking. 

“You’re never here anymore! I - I can’t remember the last time in the past two months that we’ve been able to have any alone time together! Most of the time you’re either gone in a whole different state or stuck in the office!” You couldn’t stop the word vomit from leaving, all kinds of emotions that had been kept dormant finally coming up to the surface.

You heaved out a deep breath, your body slumping in defeat. “Did you know that Jack learned how to ride a bike today?” You asked quietly. “No.” Aaron gulped, “I didn’t.”

A heavy silence settled between the two of you.

“What do you need me to do?” Finally, you looked at him.

There were unshed tears in your eyes, “What I want you to do, you can’t make it happen.” His eyebrows furrowed. “You want me to quit my job?”

“No,” You said with a disbelieving laugh. “I just want you to be there.”

“Who says I can’t do that?” His head tilts, his eyes boring into yours, desperately trying to read you. It was like his profiler skills didn’t exist. “Every time you’ve had a day off you’ve been called into the office one way or another.” Your tone is hopeless, like your situation can’t be helped. 

With a harsh squeeze of your eyelids, the tears began to fall, but Aaron was quick to swipe them away.

“Honey, look at me,” He cups the side of your cheek, his thumb brushing away the liquid. Hesitantly you did, and you instantly fell victim to the warmness of his irises. “I will fix this, because I am not losing you. My behavior has been completely unacceptable, and I swear that I will be here for you and Jack more consistently, I promise.”

“How do I know if this won’t happen again?

“I’ll make sure of it.” 

It was the finality in his voice that fizzled out the anxiety in your gut, setting your nerves at ease.

“Don’t make me regret this, Hotchner.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

[wardenparker]

Private Dick

Tim Rockford x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 11.8k Warnings: Plus size female reader with anxiety and internalized fatphobia/dysphoria. Tim is divorced with a shitty ex. Food/alcohol. Biting, fingering, shower sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, blink and you'll miss it vague reference to a pregnancy kink, brief mention of body shaming/bullying, a lot of talk about one character being vegan. SO MUCH FLUFF. Supportive love is a wonderful thing. Summary: Things are getting serious with your boyfriend, and that means that it's time for your anxiety to come out to play. But if there's one amazing thing about Tim, it's how much he cares. Notes: We just really needed some supportive fluff and hot smut this week, guys. I don't know what else to say ❤💛🧡

“So uh, there’s gonna be a get together at my mom’s house this weekend.” Tim fastens his watch and looks around for the toothpick that he had set down. He swears he has to lay off the pepper beef, the shit always gets trapped in his teeth, but every time they order from Happy Dumplings for the office, he gets the same thing. Standing up, he slides his boxers back up over his hips and looks over his shoulder. “I might have told her that I would bring you.”

"You told your mom about me?" You were halfway out of his bed and hunting around the floor of his bedroom for your panties when he said it and your head snaps up to look at him. God, the man really has a fantastic little ass.

“Well…yeah.” Tim frowns as he reaches for his pants. “She tried to set me up with some chick from her church, says I need a good woman to take care of me.” He snorts, remembering how his ex-wife used to say she would take care of him until the late nights and crushing pressure of the job had sent her into Tommy Litchfield’s bed. The divorce hadn’t been pretty and he had seen the kids four weeks out of the year. “Figured we had been…. seeing each other long enough, so I told her.”

It's been almost seven months since you and Tim started seeing each other, as he puts it, and you know the time right down to the day. Six months, three weeks, and one day. That was the best accidental first date of your life, and even though his job is demanding, you don't mind. You have hobbies and friends - your family and your own job - all to deal with. Time with him has been the icing on the proverbial cake. Hell, the first time he called you his girlfriend was barely a month ago and you had nearly giggled yourself silly, still in that first blush of happiness in your relationship. "So...what kind of get together is this?" Your panties had gotten hooked on his bedpost and you delicately pull them down with a smothered snort. "Should I be dressing up or are jeans okay?"

“Backyard party.” He tells you. “My brother-in-law pretends he can grill worth a shit, while he gets drunk off his ass.” Tim chuckles. “We eat burnt hamburgers that a dog wouldn’t touch while the kids play in the pool. Or just lounge around it and bitch now that they are older.”

"The kids...as in...your kids?" You know the rundown - the divorce, the custody negotiations, all the bullshit that he went through ten years ago. His ex-wife had been awarded primary custody of his then ten-year-old twins and she had barely allowed him to see them each year since. In fact, he had gotten to see his niece and nephew a hell of a lot more, and as such he has a pretty good relationship with them as adults.

“Yeah.” He shrugs into his shirt and starts to button it up. He has to go back to the office to go through witness statements. Barely getting enough time for lunch and a quickie, he hopes that you aren’t tired of him yet. “They are home for the weekend from college.”

"Okay." Your agreement is instant, although it's muffled somewhere inside your dress as you pull it back over your head. Both of your lunch breaks are almost over and you both have to get back to your offices. "Yeah. Count me in. Absolutely." Well...this is gonna be all you think about until the weekend...

“Good.” He flashes you a grin when your head pops through your dress and he reaches for the gun that’s on the nightstand to loop back through his belt. “Make sure you bring your bathing suit.”

"I don't—" Oh god...that's right...he mentioned a pool. A quiet panic wraps itself around your heart and squeezes your chest, and you duck down to find your shoes so he won't see it in your eyes. "Uh—right. Bathing suit. Got it." You'll just have to pretend you forgot when the day comes, that's all. No harm there. Just silly and forgetful old you.

“Fuck, we need a longer lunch break.” Tim grumbles, stepping over to zip up your dress and he kisses the back of your neck. “Want me to come over tonight if it’s not too late?”

"I always want you to come over," you admit softly. He really does have that effect on you - always reducing you to a puddle of a grown-ass-woman when he's sweet and affectionate like this. "Baked pasta for dinner? I can warm you up a plate if it's late when you get out." There are strains of real domesticity in your relationship and you like that it's stayed functional. You're separate people with separate lives, but they're starting to fuse together in little ways.

“I love your pasta.” He admits, reminding himself that you are far too good for him and despite the fact that he was often beaten up by his workload and the grim reality he deals with on a daily basis, you are becoming a safe haven for him. “But if it’s too late, I just want to slip into bed with you.” He admits. “Wrapping my arms around you and falling asleep.”

"Here..." Your purse is sitting on his bureau against the wall by the door, and you pad over to it to pull out your keys. It's a great big, giant gesture to make, but you unclip your house key from the ring and cross the room again to hold it out to him. "I think we're both adult enough to make this step, don't you?" There's a spare key in a little ceramic rock positioned specifically in your front garden that will make its way onto your key ring when you get home, but you want to make this step. You want to show Tim that you're serious about him – especially if he wants you to meet his family this weekend.

He frowns at the key as he looks down at it, noticing the logo of the manufacturer. “I’m going to change your locks this weekend too.” He decides with a grunt. “These locks are shit.”

Even as you’re rolling your eyes, you can’t help but smile. His way of showing affection isn’t always obvious, but you’ve learned to see the signs. “Just take the key, baby. Accept the gesture and take the key.”

“Here.” He digs into his pocket for his own key ring. There’s already a spare on his other key ring, so he quickly works the key off and hands it to you. “You know, for when you plan to meet me and maybe you need to pee. Or you want to come over and jump me in the middle of the night.” He jokes with a small wink.

“So…for all the time?” It’s less sexy and more awkwardly charming when you throw a wink back at him, and you reach up to give him a kiss. “Come on, sexy. We have jobs to get back to.”

He chuckles and pats your ass he you turn around. “I’ll give you a call, m’kay babe? Let you know about what time I’ll be over.”

"Sounds good." As much as Tim always insists he likes your ass, you always have to bite back a small frown when he pats it - there's just too much of it. Too much of you in general. Nope...don't go down that road right now...just check your reflection in the mirror to make sure your hair is okay and reapply your lipstick before you get back to the office. You'll be fine. "See you tonight, baby."

“Wouldn’t miss it.” He promises, watching you walk towards your car with a small grin on his face. While he had made mistakes, been married to his job for too many years, he was trying to do right by you. Wanting this new relationship to work. He’s crazy about you and he can’t wait for you to meet his family.

******

It's four excruciating days of worry until the day of the get-together at Tim's mother's house is finally here. He came over late last night after an interrogation and climbed into your bed to wrap himself around you and fuck both of you into exhaustion. To that end, he is still asleep upstairs while you putter in the kitchen. Coffee made, a pan of apple cobbler in the oven and whipped cream made from coconut cream because he had told you months ago that one of his daughters is vegan. There's a great big container of cold peanut noodles with all kinds of veggies in your fridge, too. All that nervous energy you have has gone into cooking, and you frown behind your coffee cup when you remind yourself that habits like this are why you hate looking at yourself in the mirror.

Tim has gotten used to waking up in your bed, probably far faster than he should have, but there is a connection with you that he hasn't felt in a long time. So it doesn't take long for his hand to seek out your soft, warm skin in his sleep. He had pulled your nightgown off of you and tossed it on the floor, both of you staying naked after he had fucked you. His frown precedes his eyes opening when he finds nothing but the cool spot on the bed where you should have been. Where did you go?

Heavy footsteps on the stairs are your giveaway, and you pour a cup of black coffee for Tim after turning down the volume on your music yet again. “Morning, handsome.”

"Why didn't you wake me?" He squints at the bright light, your curtains and blinds already opened. He could kiss you when you offer the coffee and he does, reaching for you to pull you close for a quick kiss to thank you.

“It was early.” Even though you shrug apologetically, the kiss is welcome and so is the place in his arms. “And you work hard, so you deserve the sleep.”

He hums and rubs your back softly. "Would rather spend time with you." He kisses your forehead and then pulls back, taking a sip of his coffee. "It smells good in here." Standing in your kitchen in his boxers should look odd, but it feels normal. He's been here enough that he knows the layout pretty well.

“I made my apple cobbler that you like…” you admit with a sheepish shrug of your shoulders. “But I made it vegan so your daughter can have some. And…my peanut noodle recipe is vegan anyway, so that’s in the fridge.” He had insisted that you didn’t need to make anything to bring to his mother’s house today but here you are, cooking up a storm.

It takes a moment for that to register and then he's sighing softly. "You are too good, you know that?" He asks, setting the coffee cup down again so he can pull you in for another kiss. "I – you are amazing and thoughtful." He knows he wouldn't have even thought about making something for Zara. Not because he's neglectful, but because he wouldn't even know where to begin making something vegan. "Everyone is going to love you."

“I hope so.” You’re not naive enough to think that his grown kids will automatically love their father’s girlfriend for any reason, and you’ve got just enough in the way of self-esteem issues to be worried. But you fully intend to make the best impression possible today.

"Do you want to shower?" He asks, smirking slightly. "I brought my overnight bag." He routinely keeps a bag in the trunk of his car in case of overnight cases and needing a change of clothes. "We can swing by my apartment to change into something more casual on the way."

"I keep telling you to put clothes in that overnight bag." The offer of a shower is tempting, though, and you glance at the timer on the oven. "The pan comes out of the oven in two minutes. Then I'm all yours."

"I do have clothes in the bag." He grumbles at you. "Work clothes." He watches as you move gracefully around your kitchen, admiring the way you work so efficiently. There's a small smile on your lips that he's pretty damn sure you aren't even aware that you have, but it makes you look even sexier in his eyes.

"Then we'll stop at your apartment on the way." His divide between work clothes and civilian clothes is stark, and you don't begrudge him that for one second. You certainly have two sections of your closet, and hardly ever wear work clothes on the weekends.

The timer goes off and he smiles, sipping his coffee as you rush over to pull the pan out. "Now it's my time." He growls playfully, setting down the cup and moving behind you as you set it down on the oven mitt.

Even as he hauls you backward you have the urge to remind him not to try to pick you up. Thick thighs and too much tummy and saggy arms that you hate are too much for his perpetually bad back and knees after decades on the force. "Come on, handsome," you laugh softly when he presses a kiss to the juncture of your neck and shoulder. "Let's go take that shower."

The softness of your ass against his groin makes his cock start to harden. Making him groan as he pushes it into you with a suggestive thrust. "Mhmmmm, we could get dirty first." He chuckles and nips at your pulse. "Or would you rather I fuck you in the shower?"

"I thought that's what showers are for?" Your shower, anyway. The cramped space in his apartment is no good for anything but being functional. Your house, however, has a large shower stall with excellent water pressure and a separate overlarge tub in the master bath. It had been half the reason for buying the house in the first place.

"That's what should happen in every shower we take." He groans, smirking into your skin before he pulls away to take your hand. "What do you think, baby?"

"I think you're a menace," you tease, lacing your fingers through his. "And I am absolutely here for it."

He laughs as he walks a step behind you up the stairs, still holding onto your hand and cannot resist slapping your ass with his other when you move up an extra step and it's in his face. "Fuck, I love your ass." He grunts.

Too big, your dysphoria supplies immediately, and you're glad he can't see your face as you climb the stairs together. You've never been skinny but it seems like since you got past your thirtieth birthday, everything got a little bigger out of protest. Everything except your tits. "I'm glad you like it," you manage, hoping you sound bright and teasing.

"Next time I have you on your stomach, I'm going to bite it." He threatens playfully, slapping it again right as you reach the top of the stairs. His cock twitches at the thought and he’s halfway toying with the idea of seeing if you would let him fuck your ass. It's not been talked about, and he's not just going to ask.

"Wouldn't be the first time you left teeth marks in me." That actually makes you laugh, remembering the first time your best friend had noticed the imprint of Tim's pearly whites when you had gone to her house after leaving his place. It was how she found out you were seeing someone, and you hadn't lived it down for weeks.

His growl catches in his throat and his hand tugs you back, spinning you around and pressing you up against the wall so he can kiss you again. This thing with you has progressed to the point where those three little words dance in his head when he is thinking of you. Still not quite voiced, they are there. Making him crave you even more when he has you nearby and he transfers that into the pressing of your lips together.

It's a sigh and a muffled groan from you, and your arms come up around his neck easily to encourage him to take whatever he wants. He's fucking irresistible and while you still can't quite grasp why he seems to want you, you're not going to question it and ruin the best adult relationship you've ever had. You're almost grateful to the idiot that broke into your office building and caused all of you to have to make statements to the police.

You had seemed to think that you needed to wear fancy lingerie when he first started sleeping with you, but the loose nightgowns you wear now are just as sexy and far easier to access. Thankful that you had taken his word and started wearing them to bed at night. His hands plunging underneath so he can cup your tit, his other hand twisting to slide into your panties as he groans into your mouth.

Tim's fingers are thick and nimble, and you never would have thought gun callouses could be sexy until you felt them slide through your pussy the first time. The hand fully encompassing one of your tits squeezes in earnest and you groan, hips already rocking against his other hand. "Fuck, Tim."

“That’s it, baby.” He grunts, kissing down your jaw and biting your ear. “Fucking love how wet you get. Pussy is gushing for me.”

Broad shoulders, broad chest, thick fingers, quick tongue, a smile that can leave you in a daze. How would you not be absolutely gushing for him? "Always," you sigh out, breath catching when he curls his fingers against your g-spot expertly. "Need you so bad, baby."

“Just what I want to hear.” His cock pulses against your soft belly and he wants nothing more than to lift you up and fuck you against this wall. Except you would squawk the entire time to put you down. Instead, he pumps his fingers diligently, eager to make you cum so he can fuck you in the shower.

The press of those thick digits inside of you has you gasping and clinging to him as he thrusts two fingers inside of you, adding a third to make you squeal and shake even harder. His eagerness makes perfect sense considering you weren't in bed beside him when he woke up, and you let your forehead drop forward to his bicep as you ride his fingers closer and closer to cumming right there in the hallway of your little house.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” He asks, always loving when you come apart for him. It’s a gorgeous sight. “Gonna soak my fingers? Squeeze them tight?”

"I—fuck—" Three fingers in your cunt and his thumb against your clit is too much all at once in the best way possible, and you're nodding against his arms as that tingling feeling at the base of your spine explodes and you start to shake apart. For a man who claims not to have dated a lot and have been rusty on intimacy when you had first gotten together, he never lost that muscle memory of how to be an amazing lover.

“So fuckin’ pretty when you cum.” He coos in your ear, feeling your cunt sucking his fingers in deep and starting to squeeze them. “Cum for me baby.”

Your fingernails bite into his arms as you grasp him tightly, entire body tensing completely before falling apart completely – flooding his hand with cum and slumping backward against the wall so you aren't too heavy on his arm. "Goddamn, baby..." you pant with a small giggle when you can breathe again, the orgasm exploding like shooting stars behind your still closed eyes.

“Fuck, I need to be inside you.” He feels the slick coating his fingers and wants to sink inside your quivering cunt. “Shower?”

“Shower.” It doesn’t matter that your legs are jelly, you can make it ten more feet into the bathroom. Your nightgown is pulled off of you before you hit the door, and his own boxers pushed down and kicked off. Leaving you in your panties as he opens the glass door to turn the shower on.

“Just what I needed today.” You’re only half teasing as you strip off your panties and toss them in the nearby laundry basket. “To be freshly fucked when I meet your family.”

He grunts, crowding you into the shower when you climb in and turning you around to face the wall. “You want to talk to my mama with a load of my cum in your pussy?” He grins, biting your neck again. “I can make that happen.”

“You can’t just say shit like that to me.” It earns him another moan and you back your ass up against his hips eagerly. “It’s gonna be all I can think about all day.”

“Good.” He chuckles roughly as his hands grip your hips and he presses closer. His cock folding up against his body and pressing into the cleft of your ass insistently. “It’s gonna be all I think about too. Imagining you dripping. Licking you clean.”

“Gonna have to slip away to your old room to get handsy.” You tease, knowing that his mother still lives in the house he grew up in.

“Fucked my first girl in that bed.” He grunts, silently acknowledging that it would be fitting that he fucks his last girl there too.

“Gonna make me another notch on that bedpost, Rockford?” You grin over your shoulder at him as his hands knead your ass. “I bet it was some homecoming queen. Or cheerleader. Do baseball games have cheerleaders?”

“Sometimes.” He smirks and shakes his head. Aware that you have some notion that he was some kind of stud when he was younger. “But maybe that new notch will be fun.” He poses as he rocks his hips back to take his cock in his hand.

"Getting you all riled up until you fuck me is always fun." All of Tim is thick. From his muscled limbs and shoulders that test the limits of store-bought shirts, all the way to his cock. The feeling of his head pushing your pussy open makes you moan, and you brace yourself against the wall of the shower for him to take as much as he wants from you. There's a certain amount of bliss involved in being intimate with Tim and you can usually push away your insecurities in favour of seeing - and feeling - just how much he enjoys touching you. Right now, the thoughts drop away and the only thing left is yes and more and oh god.

“Fuuuuuuuuuck.” He groans as he splits you in two. “I fucking love this pussy.” His breath is heavy in your ear and he rolls his hips until he is buried deep. “Perfect, baby, you’re fucking perfect.”

Perfect. Nobody had ever called you that before, and you had instinctively laughed the first time Tim had used the word. Since then you've tried to be a little kinder with yourself, and accept that just because you don't think you're perfect doesn't mean that he can't think so. "Just for you," you groan happily, reaching back to squeeze his hip. "Only for you, baby."

His lips trail over your skin and he can’t help but continue to kiss you. Loving how you clutch him deep inside your body and the softness of you against him. Reaching for your hands, he laces his fingers with yours and lays them against the wall, sliding his feet closer.

The cold tile against your front and Tim's hot skin at your back is an intense combination that you love – an extra reason to moan with every thrust. His body seems to cover every inch of you, enveloping you in his presence, and it's almost hard to move except to grind back against him every time he fills you up. It's a gorgeous feeling that you so easily get lost in.

“Fuck, how does it get better?” He pants into your ear. “Every fucking time, you feel even better. Addicted to you.”

"Perfect." He is the perfect one, and you won't hear anything to the contrary, panting out words with every slap of his hips against your ass. "Perfect cock. Perfect fuck. Perfect man. I—" For a moment, in your rapture, the words almost slip. Thank god you manage to swallow them quickly. "So good, baby."

“I know you’re gonna cum for me again, aren’t you?” He asks, rocking his hips forward to slap against your ass as he picks up his pace.

“Just like that.” You know it won’t take long now, not if he goes just a tiny bit harder like he does when he gets close, and the begging in your voice always gets him, too. Every time. “So fucking perfect, baby. Please let me cum fo—oh fuck— so close!”

Tim hisses, squeezing your hands as he rocks up into the balls of his feet. Thrusting harder into you. “Yessss, fuck, cum for me baby.”

Bearing down on his length this time, you can practically feel his pulse through the prominent veins of his cock as they scrub against your walls. The pressure is just as perfect as the rest of him and before you know it there are stars erupting behind your eyes.

Tim groans your name when he feels you start to cum. Loving how you whine and whimper as he works you through it. Sex with you has been amazing and he hadn’t been lying when he said it just kept getting better. When that final thrust comes and you are pressed tight between Tim and the tile, the feeling of his pulsing cock filling you full of sticky cum scratches that very private, very secret dream you have of one day actually having a family with this man, and you shiver a little with personal satisfaction when he groans your name into your skin one last time.

“God.” He pants, knowing that while he’s fucking you isn’t the right time to say those words for the first time. “So good baby.”

Laughing under your breath, you groan happily and let your weight go against the wall just to feel him slump against you. “Hell of a way to start the day,” you tease.

“Should start the day this way every morning.” He laughs along with you. “Don’t you think so?”

“Why do you think I gave you a key?” Twisting around just enough to kiss him, you hum against his lips and sigh happily.

He snorts and kisses you again. “So I should just swing into the house every morning as I go into work?” He asks playfully.

The impulse is there. The invitation right on the tip of your tongue. But it’s too soon. Way too soon. He doesn’t even know how you really feel about him yet — so telling him he could just give up his tiny bachelor pad and move in with you would probably send him running for the hills. “So you can stay over whenever you want,” is how you phrase it instead, hoping that that doesn’t sound overbearing or overeager.

“Don’t tell me that.” He warns you. “Your bed is softer than mine and it has the added bonus of having you in it. You’ll get tired of me.”

“No, I won’t.” The answer is too quick. You know that, but you can’t help it. Slowly turning around, the unfortunate side effect of losing his warmth as his quickly softening cock slips out of you is replaced by the benefit of getting to look him in the eyes. “I—I won’t get sick of you, baby.”

He nudges his nose against yours gently and sighs softly. “I hoped that I would make it a little more romantic than this.” He grumbles quietly,

“A little more romantic than being snuggly after sex?” You ask incredulously. Sure you’re not wrapped up in the blankets right now, but it’s still the same feeling.

“Something more romantic than shower sex to tell you that I love you.” Tim tells you quietly. “I’m not good with words or romance.”

When you deflate in front of him it’s out of pure shock, but you push off from the wall instantly to drag him down for a kiss. “I love you, too,” you promise him in that same hushed voice. “I have for—for months.” Since the night that he braved taking you to an Indian restaurant and got through an entire dinner before you found yourselves in the middle of a music festival in the park and he tried to sneak grabbing a hot dog because he didn’t want to admit to you that he didn’t like the restaurant you said you love. “I love you so much.”

He sighs in relief, pressing his forehead against yours and chuckling with joy. “Good. I was afraid I was rushing things. Or reading too much into the amazing sex we have.”

“I don’t think seven months before the first mention of love is anybody’s definition of rushing, baby.” Placing a kiss over his heart, you can’t help the way you grin from ear to ear when you look up at him. “But you’re right about the sex being really fucking good.”

“Yes, it is.” He agrees with a roguish wink. “Now we just need to clean up.” The functional portion of the shower never takes long. You’re both well established in your habits and are clean again in under ten minutes, leaving you to towel off on the bathroom rug together in no time. “So I was thinking that after my mom’s, I could stay tonight?” He asks, keeping his tone casual. “Since I’ll be dropping you off and I have a full weekend off for once?”

“I’m gonna call up your captain and tell him I have you handcuffed to my bed,” you joke, careful to keep yourself covered even while you’re drying off from the shower. It's a habit, and even if he’s just been inside you that’s no reason to force him to look at your whole blob-like body. “He can’t have you back until Monday. Girlfriend’s orders.”

“Careful now.” He warns with a grin. “I might like be handcuffed to your bed.” He’s never really thought about using his handcuffs, despite the ribald jokes from other detectives, but if you wanted to, he would let you. He trusts you.

“You? Give up control?” Raising one eyebrow at him in the mirror, you scoff playfully. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“I thought you like when I’m in control?” He asks with a smirk. “But for you? I’d do it.”

“The perfume I wear is literally called ‘Good Girl’,” you laugh, motioning to the stiletto-shaped bottle on your bathroom shelf. “Of course I like it when you’re in charge.”

“That’s the stuff I like?” He asks, intrigued by the name. He never knows that kind of stuff, just that you smell amazing and he always wants to rip your clothes off when he smells it.

“Yup. The little bottle shaped like a high heel.” It’s your treat to yourself. Designer perfume makes you feel a little less like a fat girl playing dress up when you get ready to see Tim or go out with friends, and a little bit more like a full-grown woman. It’s silly, but if that’s what does it, then you can’t be too mad about it.

“I will have to buy you another bottle of that when you get low.” He hums, making a mental note of it. “It smells incredible on you.”

You won’t quibble with him now over the fact that it’s pricey or anything like that. It’s the gesture that counts, and the fact that you’re getting a little bit closer each and every day. “I don’t know how well it goes with chlorine.” With one little joke, you seize the chance in front of you. “Maybe I’ll abstain from swimming today.” No swimming means no swimsuit, which means no having to be partially undressed in front of his family.

Tim sends you a pout. “Nooo, I’m looking forward to getting into the pool with you.” He huffs, eager to see you in your bathing suit and watch you bask in the sun.

“It’s okay,” you insist, trying to play it off like it doesn’t matter at all. “Maybe next time.”

Tim frowns slightly when he realizes that you are serious and you will not be getting into the pool. “Yeah sure.” He nods. “Next time.” He agrees before he moves over to the sink to brush his teeth and shave.

“Okay.” He’s upset. He’s upset with you, and your mind goes straight to the worst possible scenario which is obviously that he’s going to break up with you over it. A lifetime of trying to deal with low self-esteem and self-worth issues but still you go straight to the worst-case scenario sometimes. “Gonna go get dressed,” you mumble quickly, retreating from the room still wrapped entirely in towels, as fast as your feet will carry you.

Tim sighs, wondering where he went wrong this morning. It had been going so well but Trina had continuously accused him of putting his foot in his mouth or being insensitive. He had been trying so hard with you and yet he can tell you’re upset. He looks in the mirror and shakes his head. “Don’t fuck this up.” He orders himself with a groan.

The warm Southern climate means swimming happens all the time, but it’s still October so you put on a light cardigan with your sundress and sandals and try to keep yourself from crying and making your eyes red before you leave the house. The last thing you need is to show up to meet his kids and his mother with bloodshot eyes. “Don’t fuck this up,” you chastise yourself, opening the dresser drawer that holds your one swimsuit just to stare at it for a minute in loathing.

“Baby?” Tim had retreated downstairs once he had dressed, sure that you needed some time to yourself. “Are you ready?” Are you still coming?

“Yeah! One second!” Out of some kind of masochistic instinct, you grab your bathing suit and cram it into your tote bag when you snag it off your dresser and rush downstairs. Clothes, jewelry, make up, all of it is in place to try to make the most positive first impression possible. “Sorry, I—” You immediately focus on getting the food packed up into a reusable shopping bag. “I almost forgot to put on perfume. Stupid, right? After we just were talking about it?”

“That’s okay.” Tim approaches you slowly from behind and he gently takes hold of your waist. “You still smell great even without it.” He promises, leaning in and kissing your shoulder. Offering a silent apology.

“Do I look okay?” It’s silly to be worried. You’re a grown woman and he’s a grown man. But you’re terrified and determined not to fuck up again today.

“You look stunning.” He promises you. “If I hadn’t promised my mother that we would be there, I would keep you here and take you back upstairs to show you how pretty you look.”

“Okay.” Nodding twice, your head hangs between your shoulders for a second before you force yourself to straighten up and take the bag full of food from the counter. “Ready when you are.”

“Are you sure you want to go?” He asks, concerned that he is pushing too fast. It seems like you’re forcing yourself to go.

“Of course I’m sure.” The brightness in your voice isn’t entirely forced. You do want to go, you’re just terrified and self-conscious. And from the look on his face, he knows something is wrong. “I’m just—” Your eyes drop and so do your shoulders. “I’m worried what they’ll think of me, that’s all.”

“Baby.” He shakes his head and sighs softly, happy that he can reassure you. “They are going to love you.” He promises. “Probably love you more than me.”

“They loved Trina.” You’ve seen plenty of his pictures of his ex-wife. Their wedding pictures, especially, and even how skinny she managed to get back to being after having their twins. She’s stunning, and successful, and smart. And you’re a dumpy little nobody who sits behind a desk and definitely never goes to the gym. “I’m not like her. At all.”

“That’s a good thing.” He promises, chuckling at how ridiculous it would be to date someone like his ex.

You let out a half-laugh, huffing at yourself, and shake your head slightly. It sounds so stupid to say it out loud, but here you are in the middle of your kitchen about to break apart at the seams over a first meeting. “She—she’s prettier than me.” In every sense, in your opinion. But especially, she’s skinnier.

Tim frowns and vehemently shakes his head. “That is not true.” He argues. “And it doesn’t matter how pretty she is, she is my ex-wife.” He reminds you. “She left me. Took my kids from me.”

“Right.” Blinking back the impending tears that will ruin your makeup and the mood, you nod your head and take a steadying, if shaky, breath. “Right. I know that. I’m sorry. I’m just—I’m being stupid.”

“You aren’t being stupid.” He huffs, hating how you belittle yourself. You are kind and generous to everyone but yourself. “It is just nerves, right? This is a big step and I’m sure I’ll be shitting myself when I meet your folks.”

“It’s nerves.” You agree, nodding again and resisting the urge to press on your closed eyes to stop the water behind them. It would smudge the eye makeup you put on so carefully. All waterproof, ironically. But not touched-with-hands proof. “I just don’t—” It is stupid, and a part of you knows that. The part that pays fucking attention in therapy every other week. “I don’t want you to finally realize you’ve been dating a cow if I put on my swimsuit,” you admit quietly.

“A cow?” He growls the comment in surprise, rearing back and wondering where the hell that idea came from. “Who the fuck called you a cow?” He demands, furious and ready to punch someone if they’ve insulted you like that.

“Nobody had to.” Your sister. Your grade school bully. The woman at the department store. A girl at camp. A boy you had a crush on in high school. Your parents. Nobody. Everybody. “I’m just a little anxious. It’s fine. I just won’t have any caffeine the rest of the day and it won’t get worse. Please don’t be upset?”

Tim shakes his head and he reaches up to cup your cheeks. “Baby, put your bag down.” He orders you softly. He doesn’t want to leave this house until he’s truly talked to you, and if that means being late, then he will be late. “Please?”

It only takes a moment of silence between you before you swallow your protest and set your purse and the bag of food back on the counter. This is it. He’s going to dump you for being an idiot. At least you got to tell him you love him before that happened, right?

He guides you over to the chair and sits you down, kneeling in front of it and holding onto your hands. “Baby, I don’t know why you are so hard on yourself.” He starts softly. “But I want you to know how I see you.” He knows self-image is just that, your image of your own self, he can’t change your mind for you. “I see you right now, and you are gorgeous.” He nods, smiling as he looks at you. “Generous, pillowy curves that make my mouth water and my cock ache.” Licking his lips, he continues. “I love the way you feel, the way you taste. I love your heart, your kindness. Your thoughtfulness. Your patience.” He stresses. “You are beautiful, inside and out and I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You say cow, I say stunning, voluptuous goddess that I love.”

“I know that the voice in my head that says these things is intentionally hurting me.” Holding onto his hands like a lifeline, you end up squeezing his fingers in yours. “I’ve been in therapy for enough years to know that. It’s a skewed perspective. But there really are sometimes that I cannot shut it off. It’s like a train going off the tracks,” you explain, hoping he can follow the line of what you’re saying. “I can see the disaster ten feet ahead of me, but it’s too late to stop it. I know I’m going to go headfirst into the worst kind of hating myself, but I can’t stop it from happening.”

“I know what you mean.” He does. He’s seen the department shrink enough times to understand that. It’s like when he blames himself for circumstances beyond his control. “I’m never going to tell you that you are stupid, or dumb for thinking that way.” He promises you. “But I am going to disagree with you, tell you that you are wrong. Because there isn’t one thing about you that I would change.”

"Really?" There's a second where you're too afraid to look up at him, but you can feel Tim's eyes on you and so you raise your head in some kind of silent moment of obedience and it makes you decide to crack a smile and go for a joke. "Not even my broken brain?"

“Not even that.” He smiles at you. “Because I love you, all of you. The good and the negative.” He squeezes your hands gently, “Love you, baby.”

"I love you, too." You lean over to kiss him, half in disbelief that he didn't ask for his key back and walk out your door. "Thank you. For...for listening. And not thinking I'm crazy for overreacting."

He chuckles and leans down to kiss your hand. “Baby, I think you are crazy for putting up with me, not for how you feel.”

"You're amazing, and it's never putting up with you. I love spending time with you." The sigh that comes out of you is deep and long, but you feel better. The weight on your shoulders has lifted, if only for now, and you manage an honest smile. "We should get going, baby. You don't get to see the twins that often and I don't want you to miss a minute of it today."

“Okay.” He waits another moment, searching your eyes and then he pats your thigh gently. “Let’s go. I can quickly change.”

It's a fast enough trip to stop by his apartment on your way to his mother's house, and once he's swapped his work clothes for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, he slides back into the car beside you and you're off to the races again. At this rate you'll be no more than five minutes late, and that is nothing at all.

Driving the familiar route home, he points out places he used to go as a child and then a teenager. Sharing glimpses into his life. Holding his hand in yours as he pulls up to the two-story house that he had been raised in. “I'm right here with you.” He promises, kissing your hand again. “And they will love you.”

"As long as you love me, I'm okay." That's the pep talk you were giving yourself on the way over, and you're feeling a little more settled after the glimpses into his past. You didn't grow up around here so you can't do any such tour for yourself, but it's nice to see a slightly different side of the town you've lived in for years.

“Are you ready?” He asks after he cuts the engine, turning towards you slightly. “Or do you need a minute?”

"Let's do it." If you sit in the car and procrastinate you'll only give the negative thoughts time to come back, so you lean over to kiss him and buck yourself up. "I'm good, baby. I promise."

“You are always good.” He tells you with a wink before he climbs out of the car and hustles around to open your door for you. Taking the dishes you had protected on the way over so you can get out.

There is plenty of noise coming from the backyard of the beautiful little brick house, and the sound of splashing is already obvious along with music playing and people chatting at various volumes. This is definitely a family party, and it seems like the family is already here.

"Uncle Tim!" The call comes up from the pool first, as his nephew catches sight of him first and waves. "Holy shit! Y'all, Uncle Tim actually left his desk!" The teenager teases with a cackling laugh.

“Yeah, yeah.” Tim rolls his eyes in good fun as he waves back. His hand immediately goes back to the small of your back and he slowly guides you forward. “Come on baby, we’ll put up the food inside and then come back out.”

"Holy shit Uncle Tim brought a girl!" A teenage girl's voice calls after you, with as much excitement as shock, and you're in the middle of a fit of giggles when he opens the sliding door to let you into the kitchen from the back porch. "So that's your nephew and niece, huh?" You snort, smothering the sound with one hand even as you try to stop laughing.

“Brats.” He huffs, his sour look simply for show. “You would think I was a ball-less hermit.” He snorts, setting the travel bag for your dishes down and then opens the fridge to see if there’s room.

"Language." His mother's warning tone is playful from around the corner, but she still means it. Foul language stays outside, it doesn't come inside her house. "Timothy Alan, don't make me send you outside if you're going to be vulgar."

“Me?” He points at himself as he exclaims. “They are being vulgar. And I’m the one in trouble?” His question doesn’t stop him from immediately moving around the corner to engulf his mother in a hug. “Hey Ma.” He kisses her cheek and urges her to come into the kitchen. “I brought my girlfriend.”

"They're outside and I can't hear it," his mother teases, blissfully aware of her arbitrary rules and the fact that nobody is actually in any trouble whatsoever. "Honey." She reaches out both hands to you after giving Tim a hug. "He's been hiding you from me knowing I'm gonna steal you away to have a cooking friend again. It is so good to meet you, sweetheart."

"It's really nice to meet you too, Mrs. Rockford." Even as she envelopes you in the same tight hug that Tim got, you look over her shoulder to shoot Tim a surprised expression.

Suzanne Rockford is far from a petite woman. She is sturdy, hearty. Obviously heavier and he has never told you that, honestly believing that it didn’t matter, but now he wonders if he should have. Maybe you would have been less self-conscious if you had known. He shoots you a smile and a half shrug. “Where’s Vanessa?” He asks, looking around for his sister.

"Upstairs, looking for god knows what in the attic? Unless she’s found it already, and then who knows." Suzanne waves one hand and pays that no mind. "Did Tim offer you a drink yet honey?" She asks you, giving you her absolute full attention. "We've got a whole bar out on the back porch, and the fridge under the car port has beer and soda. But I keep the wine in here." Apparently that is a conspiratorial secret, because she waggles her eyebrows at you. "Whatever you want, I'll grab you a cup."

"I'll grab a soda when we go back out," you promise her, not wanting to start drinking too early in the day. According to Tim, his mother's parties are a strictly all-day affair.

“Ma, she brought an apple crisp and a noodle dish. Vegan, for Zara to enjoy.” He tells her, beaming proudly. “Where do you want me to put them?”

"In the fridge, honey. There's room on the bottom shelf." She looks just as proud as he does, and she reaches out to squeeze your hand. "She's doing well with it, you know," she nods authoritatively. "Talked to her doctor about making sure she gets protein and all her vitamins. Doing some really creative cooking, that one. Once she's got her mind set on something, that's it. It's do or die." Suzanne smirks. "Gets that from her Dad."

“I tried some of that vegan cheese.” Tim tells his mom, shuddering slightly. “The sliced stuff is shit, but the shredded stuff actually melts pretty good.”

“What matters is that you tried.” Suzanne nods approvingly. “Have you two gotten to say hi yet?”

“Not yet, we wanted to get the food put up.” He explains, coming back over to kiss his mom’s cheek again. “I’m looking forward to seeing them. Texting when we get a chance sucks.”

“Go introduce everybody,” she encourages, shooting a smile your way before shooing him off. “There’s things to snack on out there already. Lunch in an hour, or whenever Ricky gets that grill going.”

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckles, knowing that Ricky will fight with the grill for at least ten minutes. He moves over to you and takes your hand. “Let’s go see the kids, baby.”

You let him usher you back out into the bright, late morning sun, and for the first time you get a good look at the backyard in its entirety. There are a lot of people here — more than a dozen for sure — and you can hear another car honk as it pulls up in front of the house. The mood is pure happiness and even a tinge of nostalgia, as people greet each other who haven’t seen each other in ages. The air of absolutely everything is positive, and you take a deep breath to bring some of that into you as well.

Tim sees the first one that he wants to introduce you to. “Vanessa!” He half cups his mouth with one hand to shout his sister’s name. “Get your ass over here!”

"Hi to you, too!" His younger sister rolls her eyes and kisses the woman she was talking to on the cheek before hustling across the lawn. She has a beer in her hand and sunglasses on top of her curls, and she has the same stout and strong figure as their mother but with a little bit more grace in her movements.

He lets go of your hand only so he can wrap his arms around his sister and hug her tight. Making her squeal when he squeezes too tight. “How have you been? It’s been a month or so.”

“Yeah, you’ve been busy.” She raises both her eyebrows at you, waggling them for comedic effect, and then promptly nudges her brother away so she can shake your outstretched hand.

“Sorry if I’ve kept him away from you,” you apologize, not ever wanting her to think that you were intentionally keeping Tim away from his family.

“Are you kidding me?” She laughs, giving your hand a squeeze. “It’s fantastic. I’ve barely seen him sulk in months.”

“I don’t sulk.” His lips immediately form a pout as he glares at his sister. “I was gonna be happy to introduce you to my girlfriend, now you can fuck off.” Even though he says that, he immediately tells her your name before pointing at her. “This is Vanessa, the pain in my ass all my childhood.”

"It's really nice to meet you." He's told you a lot about his sister and you already knew she was a ball buster, but meeting her now feels like a relief. They're close and it's fun to see Tim relaxed like this with his family. "Believe it or not he's actually only told me great things about you."

“Oh, I’m sure.” Her tone is sarcastic and she’s rolling her eyes, but her grin gives her away as she transfers her attention from her brother to you. “I’m a hugger.” She warns you before she pulls you in for a less formal greeting than a handshake.

"It's okay, I am too." It's a far sweeter welcome than you expected to get, both from his mom and his sister, and you let yourself squeeze her back just for a second before letting go. "I'm just really excited to meet everyone."

“I was so excited that Tim told Mom he was bringing you.” She tells you with a smirk at her brother. “It’s been forever since he’s introduced us to someone, and she who shall not be named isn’t exactly ‘fun’.” She confides.

"Oh?" Having been under the impression that his family had liked his ex while they were together, you tilt your head curiously. "Well, uh...we figured it was time," you offer with a shrug. "It's been more than a few months, ya know? And...and things have been really good. Tim is just—" You glance back at him and end up grinning. "He's really amazing."

“He’s a good guy.” As much shit as she gives him, she would be the first to defend her brother and she knows he is much the same way. Siblings in the sense that she can tease him but she’ll kick anyone else’s ass who does. “And he talks about you a lot, so I think he likes you.”

"You talk about me?" Yes, sure, he told you he loves you less than two hours ago, but you still soften in surprise hearing that.

“Oh he doesn’t shut up about you.” She insists, smirking wickedly at Tim who looks very interested in the top of his foot in his flip flops. “Asking if he should take you here, talking about your job. I feel like I know you.” She pats your arm. “He told me he didn’t want to fuck this up.”

"Did he tell you about the fundraiser he let me drag him to?" He's blushing and it's the cutest thing you've ever seen, so if you maybe pick out something to talk about that will make his cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red then that's entirely on purpose.

“Nooooooo.” Vanessa lights up and is nearly about to bust for information. “My brother? At a fundraiser?” She sounds positively scandalized, as if she could never imagine such a thing.

"The nonprofit I work for has dinner dances and black-tie events during the year." You explain, feeling Tim shift self-consciously next to you in the grass even though he's smiling. "He's actually been to two of them now."

“You got my brother to wear something other than those horrible dress pants and button ups?” She gasps. “I swear the ties were from Christmas when the twins were four.”

“We rented him a tuxedo for one event.” The admission brings a dramatic sigh from Tim but you lean over to put your arm around his waist and smile broadly. “You look good no matter what, honey.” Did you climb him like a tree that night because he looked extra good in the tux? Absolutely. But he still looks delicious in his t-shirt and shorts.

“I should just buy one.” Tim grumbles. He hadn’t liked wearing it, although realistically, it wasn’t much different from a regular suit. And you had enjoyed him in it. The sex had been extremely hot once he had gotten you back to your place. “Since you want me to go to those things.”

Vanessa’s eyebrows raise at the offer, and she smirks mercilessly. Hearing her big brother make any kind of comment that trends toward commitment is practically worth celebrating. “Ya know,” She giggles evilly and takes a sip of her beer. “I hear that’s even the kind of shit guys get married in.”

Tim nearly chokes in his own tongue, wishing he had decided to take the crime scene call that had come over the radio on the way here. Even a blood bath would have been preferable to the way his sister is probing for information. He just said he loves you, if he starts talking about marriage, you might think he’s gone nuts.

“Oookay, maybe let’s not pick a topic that makes him want to implode?” You try to joke, squeezing his arm gently, and stifle a laugh. That’s exactly the kind of thing you would expect from a little sister but you don’t want Tim to think you’re crazy the way the idea may or may not have already crossed your mind in daydreams from time to time.

“Jesus, Ness.” Tim huffs. “First time you meet her and you’re picking out our wedding colors?” He rolls his eyes. “Booked the church already?”

“Mom did.” Vanessa laughs, and you can’t quite tell if she’s kidding or not as she blows Tim a kiss and scampers off to keep her husband from blowing the place up while he’s on the grill.

“Oh dear God.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I’ll—I’ll make sure Ma didn’t actually reserve the church.”

“Baby, baby—” You grab both of his hands and let a laugh burst through as you pull him closer. “She’s teasing. It’s okay. I’m sure your mom didn’t do anything like that and even if she did, who cares? It’s a funny story we’ll tell someone in the future.” Honestly? It makes you pretty fucking comfortable here knowing that his family is full of ball busters with good senses of humor. And that they’re okay enough with you to include you in those jokes.

“I wouldn’t put it past her.” He grumbles, although he’s leaning in to kiss your lips.

“Then it’s a really funny story we tell later on.” You promise him, happily taking that kiss that he offers you so easily. “I like that your sister is comfortable enough with me to tease.”

“They like you.” He points out with a grin. “Just like I told you they would.” He catches sight of the twins and lights up. “Come on, there they are.”

“This is going on the internet!” Tim’s twin girls are pulling out their phones as soon as they see their father, dramatically button smashing and pointing the devices at the two of you. “Red alert! Dad’s girlfriend is real! This is not a drill!”

“Hey!” Tim lunges forward, snatching for their phones playfully. “Don’t make me throw you in the pool!”

“You can’t.” They’re fraternal twins, and the taller one - Zara - reaches out to hug her dad first. “Your back couldn’t handle it if you tried.”

“I’d try.” He immediately wraps his arms around his firstborn daughter and hugs her tight to his chest. “Hey bug, how have you been?” He asks, kissing her head.

“I got a term paper kicking my ass, but I’m doing okay.” Zara shrugs. Her studies mean the world to her, next to her family, but she tries to stay realistic and avoid overreacting when school is difficult.

“She’s doing amazing, it’s annoying.” The slightly shorter of the twins has lighter hair and looks a bit more like their mother, but that hasn’t stopped Joey from growing up the opposite of Trina; well-adjusted and affectionate. “We need to ask you a favor, though,” she looks at both you and Tim seriously.

“What’s up?” Tim immediately frowns, sure that there is something wrong, something he needs to fix.

“We need you to throw Thanksgiving this year.” Both girls insist in unison, a habit leftover from childhood, before Joey continues to explain. “Gran said she wasn’t up to hosting on her own this year so Mom is trying to make us go to Derek’s parents’ house. But if we tell her you’re throwing Thanksgiving with your girlfriend we’ll be off the hook.” The idea that their grandmother doesn’t want to host anymore has been a bummer for everyone, but an even bigger bummer would be having to deal with their second step-dad’s snooty family.

“I—" he looks helpless towards you, hating that you’ve been put on the spot like this. Holidays haven’t even been discussed and he doesn’t know what you usually do. “Girls, look, even if—”

“No problem.” You cut in, knowing you might be overstepping a tiny bit but for the first favor you might be able to grant his kids, you’ll take that chance. “Even if your Dad gets tied up on a case, my house is big enough and I’m a pretty decent cook.” You do look to Zara though, knowing she can’t be too fond of the main event on Thanksgiving. “We’ll pick out some vegan things together, too.”

His oldest daughter immediately perks up at that idea. “Really?” She asks excitedly. “You wouldn’t mind? I know there’s like, a lot of negativity about vegans, some of them are real assholes.” She tells you. “But I just want to, you know, live pure. But I don’t blame people for eating meat, or if they can’t make me something.”

“I made a couple of things for today that are vegan, it’s really not a problem.” Her enthusiasm and her surprise at being accommodated just makes you want to reach out and hug her, but you look to her father instead. “Is this okay with you, hun? I mean my family’s Thanksgiving is clear across the country and it would be nice to…ya know…do something at home. Instead of being a pity invite at a coworker’s house.”

“What? Yeah.” He nods eagerly, both happy that the girls will be there and that you will be too. “Of course.” He looks over at the girls. “This year won’t be pizza because the turkey’s frozen.” He chuckles.

“Thank you.” Joey is the first to break the ice, reaching out to squeeze both of your shoulders. “Don’t get the wrong impression or anything, our Mom is great at some things, but hosting holidays is not one of them. Which is why it went to her mom for so long, and then whatever guy she’s married to, and—”

Zara practically elbows her sister in the ribs and smiles politely. “This is Joey,” she laughs, waving a hand at her sister. “She talks a lot when she’s nervous.”

“It’s okay.” With a wave of your own hand, you are offering both girls hugs if they want them. “I’m nervous, too. Your Dad loves the hell out of you girls and I’ve been really looking forward to meeting you.”

Zara and Joey both hug you, smiling happily while Tim looks on. He’s relieved that you seem to like the girls. And while it might be unusual that he’s just now introducing you to his twenty-year-old twins, he hadn’t wanted to force things too early. They had resented Derek’s intrusion into their lives when their mom had immediately started dating him, and he hadn’t wanted to make the same mistakes.

Getting to know Tim’s girls is fantastic. They’re good kids, smart as hell, and enthusiastic about their dad being happy again. So enthusiastic, in fact, that it’s easily an hour later when lunch is being announced that you manage to make your way back to his side after being stolen away. You’re at the food table with Zara while she scoops out a plate of your vegan peanut noodles when you give her a squeeze and tell her you’re going to go grab something to eat — and immediately drift away to Tim’s side as he brings over a plate of burgers and hot dogs to the other end of the table.

“Well hey there stranger,” you laugh, slipping one arm around his waist and sighing in relief at having the solid, comforting bulk of him back again.

“Hey.” He grins at you as he sets down the plate. “Sorry, had to rescue the day.” His brother-in-law had actually caught the grill on fire because he hadn’t cleaned it. Tim had taken over and been in charge of the food.

“My hero.” The grin on your face speaks volumes. “Some damn good kids you’ve got there, Rockford. They kept me well entertained, and we’ve got a whole menu worked out for Thanksgiving already.”

“Oh really?” He chuckles. “Has Zara convinced you to make me fry a Tofurkey?” He asks, knowing she might have tried.

“We’re going to do a dish of roasted cauliflower, mushrooms, and butternut squash to add to the table. She got excited about trying out a spice mix in them and said she’d love it for her main dish.” Hell, it sounded good to you as a meat eater, it didn’t surprise you that it sounded good to a vegan. “And she gave me some tips on using alternative milks and vegan butter in recipes so that more of the traditional dishes could be vegan friendly.” Honestly? None of it sounded difficult, and you’re thrilled to be able to do something for his kids. “No exaggeration. I’m looking forward to it.”

“That’s good.” The fact that you are accommodating his daughter is something that makes him fall a little more in love with you. Trina had complained bitterly when Zara had announced becoming vegan.

“I know you were worried when it came out of nowhere, but you don’t need to be.” In fact, after actually getting here and meeting everyone, you’re feeling more relaxed than you had thought possible. “And I—I just wanted to apologize for earlier,” you admit quietly. “Now that I know how nice everyone is, it…how I acted feels even more ridiculous.”

“So you don’t think that I’m going to realize anything more than I’m going home with a hot chick tonight?” He asks, leaning in and nudging his nose against yours.

"As long as you think so, that's all that matters." You don't have to see it, you remind yourself, as long as he does. What had your therapist said to you ages ago? 'You're just not your own type'.

“I absolutely think so.” He winks and leans back to leer at you. “Especially when you look that pretty in your sundress.”

"Oh yeah?" That look is all too familiar to you, and you bite back a grin. It's the same appraising look he had given you at the fundraiser before stealing you away from the party and back to his apartment, which was much closer to the venue than your house.

“Very pretty.” Tim grunts, moving behind you and pressing up against you at the table. “Good enough to eat.”

"Is that a promise?" He has that hungry look in his eyes that you can never resist and you try to school your expression into something innocent.

“Ah ah ahaaaaaa.” Vanessa tuts as she picks up a plate. “Not around the food.”

"Busted," you smirk, pulling Tim away from the table and heading toward the house as subtly as possible.

“You wanna?” Tim groans happily, his shuffled steps quickening behind you. He has zero qualms with having sex in this house, but he had expected you to demure.

“I always want you.” You murmur, practically rolling your eyes at him as you disappear into the house together. “Like absolutely always. It’s a constant state of existence, baby.”

“Yeah?” It surprises him how much you want him. Delights him, but surprises him. He watches you walk towards the stairs. “Last room on the left, baby.”

The upstairs hallway is littered with family photos of many generations, and you quickly look through them as you walk, until one makes you stop dead and “Aww!” out loud. Elementary age Tim in a little policeman’s uniform shares a double frame with a photo of the same man fifteen or twenty years later on the day he graduated from the Police Academy. “This might be the cutest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen,” you grin, pointing to the photos.

“Always knew I wanted to be a cop.” He feels his face burn and he shuffles slightly as he watches you examine the photos. “A little different now, don’t wear the uniform.”

“Nah, you don’t.” You grin up at him and hook your finger in his t-shirt to bring him down for a kiss. “I like the shoulder holster better anyway. Much sexier.”

“Sexier, huh?” He grins against your lips and leans in to press you against the wall. “Want me to wear it for you one day?”

“Maybe.” Your lips quirk against his in a way that absolutely means yes, and your hands wander up under his t-shirt to spread out over his muscles back. “Kinda curious how you would feel about interrogating me, actually…”

“Really?” He pulls back and arches a brow at you. “You want that? Maybe those handcuffs we were talking about? Giving you a pat down?”

The way you muffle a soft groan and briefly close your eyes should be plenty enough of a giveaway. “If I wasn’t wet before I certainly am now,” you grumble, enjoying the fantasy playing yet again in your mind.

“You concealing a weapon?” He asks gruffly, even though he is smiling. He won’t really roleplay with you right now, but you seem to love the idea.

“Maybe…” You can’t help but giggle, taking his hand that isn’t braced on the wall above your head and guiding it under the skirt of your sundress. “Guess you’re gonna have to find out.”

All he can feel is generous, warm flesh. Making him groan and his cock twitches against your hip. “When did you take your panties off?”

“I snuck inside about ten minutes ago.” Your soft little grin turns wicked. “I think I have a domesticity kink, cause I was enjoying watching you at the grill.”

“I’ll grill every night if you stop wearing panties.” He promises with a groan. “My sexy girl.”

“You wanna add another notch to that bedpost, baby?” The two of you are about three feet from the door to his childhood room and it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to get caught fucking in the hallway. Just for basic courtesy’s sake.

“Only notch that counts.” He promises, pulling away from you to drag you into the bedroom.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit

My Masterlist!

[myg-butterfly]

Nothing New

Ot7! BTS x Choreographer! Reader (Seokjin x Reader focused)

Summary: You get hurt and have to find a replacement. You just didn't think that replacement extended to your relationship with the BTS members. Will they still want you when you're nothing new?

Tags: ANGST (sorry), eventual fluff, Injured!Reader, Fem!Reader, Bangtan are kind of assholes, this isn't really proofread sorry, I also don't know how this shit actually works with Idol groups so I'm just making shit up lolsies.

A/N: HI omg sorry this took FOREVER. I was gonna have this done this weekend but we went to go visit family so I put this aside omg, but it's finalllyyyy here! I hope this lives up to your expectations. Thank you for all the love on the teaser, and remember, comments and feedback are always soooo appreciated!

Taglist: @bangteezbaby @thelilbutifulthings @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @juju-227592 @kikz165 @plexcaffeinate

All the members had just gotten home from rehearsal, and immediately went to find you just so they could throw silly little tantrums about you not being there.

The way they were pouting reminded you more of kicked puppies than world-wide sensations.

"It's fine guys, I know someone who can cover for me until I get better."

"But we like your choreography better." Taehyung whines into your shoulder and you pat his head in comfort.

"It's just a month or two, Tae."

You had broken your leg about a week ago, and consequently, you couldn't continue choreographing for the group until you were fully healed.

Which meant either the boys paused their learning, or you brought someone else in to cover for you - and you're all aware that pausing isn't really an option.

"But I'll miss you." Your boyfriends were overly dramatic, acting like you were leaving even though you all lived together.

"You'll still see me at home, it's not like I'm dropping off the face of the earth."

He huffs into your shoulder and rolls over so he's sitting next to you normally now.

"Anyway, how have you been? Have you felt okay?" Seokjin sits down on the other side of you and you feel yourself growing a bit shy under his caring stare.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

•••

"Hi! Thank you so much for covering for me. We're on a reall-"

"Save it, it's whatever. I always told you you'd need my help again at some point."

You don't like the implications in her tone but you pass it off with a small chuckle.

"Okay, so they already know 2 out of the 5 numbers for this album, and we were in the middle of learning the 3rd one. I taught it to Hoseok in advance so he can take over for that one. So you wouldn't need to be at the studio until next week. I'll send you the videos I took of the foundation of the other 2 numbers so you can learn it and then teach it."

She looked so uninterested in what you were saying, but you had to be professional.

You called her here in the first place.

"Kay, cool, got it. Also, can I get the guys' numbers? You know, just in case."

"Oh uhm, you can ask them when you see them next week… I'm not sure if they want me giving out their numbers to people they don't really know."

"Well they're gonna know me soon right? Don't be greedy, trying to keep all of them to yourself."

She giggles but you can feel that it's not really one of genuine giddiness and you hope that your discomfort isn't apparent.

"I'll ask them when I see them later today."

You plaster on the best smile you can and she gives you an equally forced one back.

"Okay. Bye!"

She basically struts away and you're left standing there; maybe calling her was the wrong move.

•••

Yep. Calling her was probably the wrong move. But it depends on which side of Y/N you ask.

On the professional side, this is absolutely great. They hit it off right away, all the boys growing comfortable with her rather quick (something HYBE valued a lot), and she was great at her job. Talented, bold, confident, friendly, the whole package.

On a more personal side, this was putting you on edge. How suddenly, all the guys would talk about was 'Joanna said this a rehearsal' or 'Joanna invited us out to eat'. It was always Joanna this Joanna that, and you knew they were just excited to have a new friend, to have someone who shares their passion, you couldn't help but wonder if their feelings for you were simply out of excitement. And now that you're not the newest thing around, would they still want you? Would they still talk about you with the same sparkle in their eyes as they do with Joanna? It left a pit in your chest.

And — yeah, calling her was the definitely the wrong move.

Finally, a long-awaited date with all of you. They were filled with energy, talking and joking on the ride there, and you felt your heart growing lighter, you still had them.

They even helped you get off the car with all the gentleness in the world, helped you get in your seat and made sure you were completely comfortable.

The lightness quickly weighed down into something much heavier when you saw Joanna walk in and make her way to the table.

And the weight felt like it had been dropped to you feet when the guys scooted to make space for her, Namjoon even standing up to hug her and letting her sit first so she'd be in between him and Jungkook.

How long has it been since they hugged you with such happiness?

"Oh my god, Y/N, hi! The boys didn't tell me you would be here."

Something about the way she said "the boys" made your hands itch, almost as much as your throat itched to say 'likewise'.

"Welp. I'm here. Haha."

Dinner wasn't fun, to say the least.

Joanna was blatantly saying shit to embarrass you the entire time, and it even worse, your boyfriends seemed to be soaking up her every word, laughing whenever she pointed out something embarrassing about you when she knew you in high school.

"Yeah! And when we choreographed together, she would always forget her parts." She lets out a giggle and Hoseok laughs too: what's so funny?

"It was only once or twice." You groan, mostly to yourself, but Joanna hears it.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Everyone laughs at her words again and suddenly, you start to think that staying home was the better option.

"I've always said she has the memory of a goldfish. Sometimes it felt like I was doing all the work because i constantly had to step in and help when Y/N froze up."

She turns to you when she speaks her next question:

"How are you doing now that I haven't been here to clean up after you? Are you making Jimin do it?" She laughs and nudges Jimin, who's sitting next to her, on the shoulder, and he happily shoves back with a bright smile on her face.

"I'm fine, it's rare that I forget stuff lately."

She gasps in a dramatic manner, you wish she would just disappear already.

"You? Not wasting time in rehearsal? Because you forgot? That's unheard of!"

You hate the way pretty much all of the guys laugh at her words: they know how much work you've put into being a good choreographer. Why were they laughing at you?

Suddenly, you feel the person next to you pressing up closer against you: Seokjin.

You look at him and he has a soft smile on his face, but not towards Joanna; his entire focus is on you.

"You have a really good memory darling. We can tell you've worked on it." The knot in your stomach softens its grip after hearing Seokjin's words, and for the first time since you got here, your smile is genuine.

"Anyways, how'd you injure yourself?"

"Oh, we were doing some cardio and I tripped. Fell at an awkward angle and it twisted my leg. Haha."

Joanna laughs a little too hard at this.

"I've always also said that for a supposed dancer you sure are clumsy as hell."

Some of the guys giggle at her comment, and you look down at your lap: why were they laughing at you?

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Seokjin sit up a little straighter, and you suspect he's gonna say something.

"Supposed dancer?" He raised a brow and to most people, it would've seemed like he was just egging onto the joke, but you and the rest of the table could tell that there was a serious undertone to his question.

It was no secret in your relationship with the guys that Seokjin had a specific soft spot for you – in a relationship as big as yours, its bound that all of you will have your weak spots for one another: Jungkook and Namjoon, Jimin and Taehyung, Hoseok and Yoongi, you and Seokjin.

So you were more than relieved when he met your gaze from across the table; he knew you were uncomfortable.

And as everyone knows, he's not one to stay quiet.

"I just mean it's surprising that for someone so clumsy she went into the professional world where coordination is crucial."

Jungkook uses this point to tease Namjoon, and thankfully the attention is taken off of you. You catch Seokjin's stare again and this time it's accompanied with an apologetic smile and him reaching out his hand to hold yours.

As your hands meet on top of the table, you seem to be the only one who notices the look Joanna sends you at the display of affection.

•••

More days pass by and everyday they get home later and later until you're left going to bed on your own.

You'd made it a habit to wait for each other if one was out late, but it didn't happen often since you had almost the same working hours and when you went out, it was usually altogether.

You'd tried to keep that habit after your injury, but they were coming home later everyday, and you weren't sure you had it in you to keep staying up for them.

Especially on nights like this one, where when they do get home, you're dismissed almost entirely.

The door opens and you sit up, ready to greet them one by one with a hug and kiss, but most of them just mumble a "hey" or "hi Y/N" and walk straight to their rooms.

Only Jungkook and Seokjin genuinely acknowledge you, Jungkook giving you a hug and a peck on the forehead accompanied by a soft "Hi baby." before going to his room as well.

Seokjin also hugs you, but he picks you up while doing so: shifting you in his arms so he can carry you to bed with him.

As he begins to walk, your eyes meet and he sends a soft smile your way.

You barely start to relax in his hold when you realize that he's walking into your room, and you slightly panic at the thought that he's going to leave you alone in there.

Your slight panic turns into franticness as he sets you down and steps away from the bed.

"No! Don't-" Jin whips around at the sound of your voice, and you feel immediate guilt when you see his startled expression.

"Sorry, I- I know you're tired. Sorry, you can go."

Your attempts to decrease his worry don't seem to work, because he's already making his way back towards your bed.

"No, no. What happened? Whats wrong?"

"Its nothing." Seokjin gives you a stern look, you both know that lying to him is impossible.

"It's not nothing. Is it your leg? Or is it something else?"

"Its stupid" you mumble.

Noticing that you're unsure of yourself, he sits closer to you and brushes you hair out of your face in attempts to comfort you.

"Its not stupid if its bothering you" you feel your tears welling up again at how soft Seokjin's voice is. How soft he is with you.

"I just- I don't think I can be alone right now." You lean into his touch as you finally get at least some of the truth off your chest.

"You don't have to be. I was going to shower, do you want to join me?"

"I don't want to bother you."

"You won't."

"But my leg, I won't be able to stand for long."

"It's okay, we'll bring a stool in and I'll help you."

"But you're tired-"

"Never of taking care of you."

Something in your heart settles through the rest of the night, there is no other intention behind Seokjin asking you to join him.

He washes your hair and even dries it once you're out, he helps you get dressed and he goes to sleep holding you, and even if it's just for one night; all is right in the world again.

The next morning, Jin wakes you up and asks you if you'd like to come to rehearsal with the 7 of them. You're elated, to say the least. You knew it was a minimum thing, but your heart couldn't help but flutter at the thought that they wanted you around.

•••

Jin on the other hand, is pissed. Not at you, (never at you), but at his 6 boyfriends and how absolutely dense they could be, this being one of those moments.

He'd mentioned that you were coming with them, and all of them responded well: "I hope she likes the choreo!" "Yay! I want to hear what she has to say."

Their response to you tagging along wasn't the problem, no.

It was their response when he tried to tell them about how you were feeling that pissed him off:

"Wait guys, before we leave, I need to talk to you about something real quick."

All of them were attentive towards him immediately, so he thought they'd receive this better.

"It's about Y/N. And partially Joanna."

"Okay?"

"I talked to Y/N last night and she seemed upset. She didn't really want to talk about it but I'm almost completely sure that she's feeling left out, and I think it may partially be because of Joanna."

All of them begin to speak at once, until Taehyung's voice cuts through everyone else's.

"Why do you think it has something to do with Joanna?"

The 6 boys settle down and stare expectantly at Jin.

"Have you guys not noticed how backhanded all of Joanna's comments are towards her? Even when Y/N isn't present, she always makes a joke at her expense. And not to mention, we've been spending a lot of time with Joanna, much more than we've been spending with Y/N. I know if I were her I would feel hurt; being injured and spending the whole day cooped up alone while my boyfriends are spending all their time with someone who treats me like dog shit."

Jin wasn't sure what he was expecting the boys' reactions to be, but it definitely wasn't the outraged faces they were all giving him.

Jungkook is the first one to respond:

"I mean, I noticed the comments but I thought they were all in good fun? You know, since Y/N and Joanna have been friends for such a long time."

Taehyung cuts in next:

"And if Y/N is feeling left out, I mean I understand but what does that have to do with Joanna?"

Almost as if on cue, there's noise coming from the kitchen, meaning that you're awake.

Jin quickly gets up to go to you, but not before leaving the 6 boys with one final word, "Just pay attention to how she speaks to Y/N, you'll see what I'm talking about."

•••

It's hard to describe – the knowledge that you're being left behind without any obvious evidence surrounding you.

It's not something that everyone outside of your point of view might see, but you can feel it cutting through you deeply.

Not being able to do what you love, and on top of that, not being able to spend time with the people you love, it's a shattering feeling that claws through your chest.

Which leaves you where you are now: in the car with the rest of the boys on your way to rehearsal.

You thought that maybe being back in the studio would relight the spark that made the 7 men drawn to you in the first place, but even the car ride there felt cold and almost uncomfortable.

•••

The atmosphere changes the moment you step foot in the studio. It feels lighter, somehow. You don't know how to feel, not with the voice in your head insinuating that this lightness is because of Joanna; the guys are more at ease with Joanna than they are with you.

You usually hate being wrong: but now, you wish you could say the voice in your head was being irrational, yet you can't. Not when you turn around and see everyone besides Seokjin and Yoongi - who are off conversing to the side - gathered around Joanna, happily talking to her.

When did they stop looking at you like that?

Finally, she takes notice of your presence and makes her way over to you.

"Y/N, girly! Hey! Are you here to learn?"

You don't respond, confused as to what she's trying to ask you.

"Ya'know? Learn from the best! We've been so productive with this number."

She responds like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and you almost feel offended at what she's insinuating.

"Oh, um- I'm here to see what the guys have done."

Joanna blinks at you, as if your answer threw her off, before continuing.

"Oh. Ok then. Cool! And are the boys cool with that?"

You can tell, she wants this to sound passive aggressive. Kind on the surface, but a clear jab at your insecurities.

Jungkook quickly cuts in;

"Of course. Why wouldn't we be cool with that?"

Joanna stutters through her response, being caught off guard by Jungkook as she thought no one had heard her remark.

"Oh! I don't know, you might get distracted? You know?"

"We'll be fine."

This time it's Jin who answers, and even if it's a little selfish, you're glad that his tone towards Joanna is automatically cold.

"Okay thennnn!"

She turns to you:

"But if you start being a distraction I'll have to ask you to step out. Heh, step out. That's funny."

She giggles at her little joke (at your expense), and makes her way into the practice room.

Rehearsal continues as usual, and you feel a bit lighter as the boys all make jokes and include you while they stretch and warm up.

They start to run through the choreography, and your heart swells with pride seeing them dance; all their hard work really does pay off.

As much as you wish to get up and dance with them, or even get up at all, you know you can't. But just seeing them perform will do.

Once they finish, you start to clap and Jimin and Jungkook turn towards you with a playful vow.

"Its looking really good guys!"

All of the boys respond with a 'thank you' and a smile.

"I do have a couple pointers about some things I noticed-"

"Okay, let's run it again!" Before you could finish your sentence you're cut off by Joanna's squeaky voice.

Thankfully, Hoseok cares about what you have to say, and the rest seem to agree as well.

"Wait, I wanna hear what Y/N had to say."

"Yeah! It's felt weird learning a brand new number and not having any of your input on it."

"Y/N, go on." Seokjin is the one who speaks last, and the look in his eyes tell you that things will be alright.

"Ok, so first thing make sure you guys are agreeing on your directions, make sure that it's either a complete diagonal or if its a slanted move so you all move the same direction-"

"Oh yeah, I explained that to them already, they know." You're once again cut off by Joanna.

You use this as a chance to tease the boys, as you always normally.

"Oh, then why are y'all making that mistake huh?" Your tone is playful, and you see Hoseok step towards you with all the intent of playing along, when a gasp coming from your right stops you both.

"Did you come in here just to criticize?"

Of course it's Joanna.

"Wha- no. I was just teasing them. The dance looks grea-"

"I told you you were gonna distract them, and what did I say I was gonna do if you got them unfocused?"

"I didn't mean to, I was just giving pointers-"

"I've been teaching them for the last few weeks, I know what they need to focus on right now."

"But I know that it can look cleaner than it did right now."

"Well this is my choreography! I know what's best! You don't get to come in here and just start shitting on my work because what? You're jealous?! You think you're better than everyone else?!"

You're taken aback when Joanna starts to scream at you, so much so that you try to step back, completely forgetting that one of your feet is injured.

As you place your foot down, a soaring pain strikes from your foot all the way to your thigh. A sob escapes you and that's when Jin's protective nature kicks in full force.

In the blink of an eye, he's crouching next to you and picking you up while everyone else in the rooms stands frozen in place.

The ice is shattered when a wail comes from somewhere else in the room: it's Joanna.

Everyone's head whips to her direction, but for very different reasons.

Jin, for one, is beyond disbelief that she'd go as low as fake crying to get the attention back on her.

The rest of the guys seemed concerned, but not because of her. Rather because they just saw her true colors, how Jin was right, how they'd neglected you.

Seokjin picks you up and rushes out the door, leaving everyone else in the room frozen.

•••

You don't really process anything that happens afterwards. You just know Seokjin is with you as you go to the doctor to get your foot checked out, and that's enough to push you into a state where you know you can space out.

You couldn't comprehend it, how you were hurt and the rest of them weren't there.

Did they even care you were hurt?

It didn't make sense, that you were asking yourself this. When had things gotten this bad? How could they have let thing get this bad? It left you aching more than your injury, and you think that shouldn't even be possible.

When you get home, you find all the boys kitchen, a mess everywhere -much to Jin's despair- attempting to decorate what you assume is a cake. They're all focused to the point where they didn't hear you come in, and if they did, they're really good at acting like they didn't. You want to hide in your room, maybe ask Jin to hide with you, play into their ignorance, but the petty part in you is much quicker.

"Joanna doesn't like cake."

You speak without thinking about it first, and it's clear that none of them were expecting a comment like that, not even Jin, because their heads whip around instantly to you.

You panic for a little, thinking they'll get mad, but Hoseok and Yoongi start laughing at Namjoon's terrified face, at the maknae line looking like they're deer in headlights, and at Jin's round eyes.

Before you know it, They're all running up to you, and Seokjin has to grab you by the waist to make sure they don't knock you over.

They all speak at once, and you can only make out some things like "are you okay? what did the doctor say? im sorry." What cuts through all the rambling is Namjoon's smooth voice, sounding a bit exasperated as he speaks: "The cake is for you Y/N. We were making the cake for you."

Oh.

"Joon! You ruined the surprise!" Jimin stomps his feet, but you know he's not actually upset.

"Well we couldn't just let her think that we were baking a cake for fuckin Joanna!" Namjoon defends himself.

Yoongi steps in front of the two and turns to you, "It was supposed to be a 'Surprise / I'm sorry / We love you / Get well soon' cake but you got here before we finished."

His genuinely dejected demeanor makes you giggle, he looks like a sad cat.

"It's okay-"

"No it's not. Cake or not, we're all really sorry- hold on, we should sit down for this." Jungkook grabs your hand and leads you to the couch, the rest following suit.

You all sit in silence for a second before Hoseok speaks up:

"Well I guess I'll start." He sits up a little straighter so he's facing you directly, and you feel nerves run through you: was he upset? Was he going to scold you?

The guys seem to notice how you tense up, because Hoseok's face falls a into a small frown, while Jungkook scoots closer to you and Jin places a hand on your thigh.

"Y/N, I am so so sorry for the way we've been acting, and the way we haven't been acting. You got hurt under our watch, we should be the ones taking care of you, no questions asked, and we've failed to do that. There's really no excuse for how inattentive we've been. In our heads, or at least my head, I didn't really see you all day, so I thought that everything was okay because I still got to wake up to you, I still got to come home and feel comfortable knowing that you were here: we had your company. But I failed to return that company, we all failed to give you the bare minimum, and I truly am so sorry."

For the time you've know Hoseok, you've only seen him cry once or twice, so when you see tears start to fall from his eyes, it shakes you up and down. Before you can go console him, Jimin speaks up from where he sits beside Hoseok.

"Hobi's right, Y/N. We didn't pay you enough attention. We were too worried about ourselves to consider how our actions looked to you. The whole thing with Joanna, we did spend a lot of time with her, but even then, all we did was talk about you. Not in a bad way, obviously, but you just always came up in conversation. I don't know why I thought that talking about you would translate as 'we're still giving you our attention' as if you could read our thoughts or something. But again, we were selfish and careless, and I can't apologize enough for how we acted."

You appreciate Jimin's attempt at lightening up the mood, and you appreciate his words overall.

The next hour goes by in the same manner. The boys apologize one by one, not to just you, but to Seokjin as well, and before you know it, there's no one in the room that isn't crying, all of you a teary and snotty mess.

"We love you so much, Y/N. Please let us make it up to you. I love you so much." Yoongi's the last one to speak, and he finishes while walking up to you and bowing at your feet.

The rest of the guys join him, even Seokjin, and you don't know what else to do except throw yourself on the floor with all of them and cry.

The night ends with all of you cuddled up on the floor, until Namjoon and Jin make you all get up so you could go lay down properly.

They guys don't let you walk, no, Jungkook carries you while Taehyung and Jimin squish at his side in an attempt to stay close to you.

You all manage to squeeze into a single bed with you in the middle, hands everywhere trying to keep you close.

You feel warmer than you have in weeks, and meanwhile the guys do have a lot to make up for, with arms wrapped around you and sweet nothings floating in the room, you think this is a great start.

[sharkneto]

So. Season 4.

Let’s start with the good. In no particular order -

The road trip. Loved the energy of them all together again and suffering mildly and looking terrible. I appreciate we didn’t waste a bunch of time with them without their powers.

Gene and Jean were great. Loved their energy, the right level of weird. Nick Offerman and Megan Mullally were perfectly cast for the roles.

Liked the idea of the Keepers, the consequence of all the timeline meddling leaking through.

Loved the concept of the subway-between-timelines. That aesthetic slaps for the map alone.

 The Truman Show Christmas Town. They nailed the creepy energy, I liked how ridiculously well-armed it was, I liked that they all died badly, I liked that the Umbrellas got to flex their powers. Diego’s flipping and bullet-mancy was fun, as was him cheating at the axe game to win his kids toys. Luther finally being properly bulletproof was also nice.

Ben Doc-Ock-ing around on the Horror. And the Horror dragging behind him while powers were booting back up. Silly fun.

Loved that Viktor dated and was unable to hold on to every eligible woman in Halifax. Daddy Issues strike again and again, poor guy.

It makes no sense for the level of tech in the show, but I did laugh at Ben being a Crypto Bro. That is the exact way in which his personality sucks.

Jerome and Nancy. If they had left Diego being suspicious of Lila seeing that “little Greek guy” as a “haha it’s just Five!” joke, it is very funny. But they didn’t. Alas.

I didn’t hate the ending! I will always think redemption through living is a better and more powerful conclusion, but them all dying to save the world because they’re the force causing repeat apocalypses was always on the table as an option. I thought they did a good job hitting emotions, them all snarking together until the end felt in character and heartfelt; if other writing choices didn’t happen before it, I think they could have really stuck that landing. I thought the easter eggs of characters from earlier seasons was fun, I hope the Handler still sucks as a regular person.

Overall, I was vibing for the first four episodes. Was it perfect? No. It was never going to be, but I could overlook the usual UA cringe and plotholes because my favorite guys were back on the screen and having good character moments together and fumbling along to save the world. I don’t usually care about spoilers, but I worked hard to avoid S4 spoilers specifically because I didn’t want expectations. The show was going to do what it was going to do, and I didn’t want to judge it for things it was never going to be. And that strat worked well for the first half of the season! It was on par with S3, which I’m an apologist for – had stuff I liked and stuff I was going to be happy to ignore, but overall we’re having a good time! My favorite dysfunctional family is here, I had missed them!

Then Ep5 hit. And we’re onto the problems and things I would change (under the cut --)

The biggest problem of the season is that the pacing was wack, in both an internal time-frame and technical-writing frame.

Internally, media for some reason has no idea how long a year is. Some of the Hargreeves’ problems at the beginning of the season would have worked much better if we were jumping in at year two or three of being in the new timeline, six years is a long time. Diego and Lila’s growing pains at being parents and living a domestic life, how to balance having kids makes more sense to be at this point. And the first couple years of adapting to no-powers-new-universe is way more interesting that hopping in once they’re all settled into mostly-sad patterns (which is in character for them all, they’re disasters). Why not an opening montage of them in their active struggle? Why are we picking up six years later? Unfortunately, because of Ep5, it does feel like the whole point of such a long time jump was to get Five’s body to a legal age and not just so Aidan wouldn’t have to pretend he’s physically a teen anymore (even though we have 30-year-olds playing teens all over other TV shows).

From a technical writing standpoint, for a show that only has six episodes to bring about a satisfying conclusion to a plot as convoluted and bonkers as UA has, they squandered Episode 5. The first four episodes we were moving along, finding plot points, getting Umbrellas in position to move things forward, and then Ep5 hits and is anyone except Viktor and Ben doing something for the plot??? The show is at its strongest with the Umbrellas are together, and it went out of its way to split them up. I also usually love character time, but we had no time to spare! We spend most of the episode either with Five and Lila in the subway, or with Klaus in the world’s most fucked-up situation. And neither do anything to build meaningfully towards the final episode! A weird choice to have your show screech to a halt in its penultimate episode.

Usually, Klaus’ side adventures loop in some important detail that pushes things forward in an unexpected way – he destroys Hazel and ChaCha’s briefcase because of Vietnam, he finds the Kugelblitz, he puts Reggie in position to use Oblivion. This time? He’s getting used and abused by a gang and buried alive to be reunited with Allison so that we… gain nothing? Except Klaus and Allison have made up from their fight? Why did I have to watch Klaus get possessed and fucked for that to happen? Why did they do that to him and me. I don’t mind angst and the incredible fucked-up situations, but it has to be earned and the story didn’t gain anything from it. Klaus just had a horrific time because that’s what he gets, I guess.

And now we get to Five and Lila. Five and Lila, Five and Lila, Five and Lila. The thing is – I don’t hate the idea of them. Obviously, it’s not anything I was ever going to ship on my own, but if they’re going to do it, I can see how and why. They even set it up in a way that I go “yeah I get it.” The thing is, after setting it up, they completely forgot what makes either character themselves or compelling so that they could be shoehorned into Cottagecore Bliss in the greenhouse and the most boring romance possible. If we're committed to doing this, I wish they’d had a weird trauma-bonded relationship in the rat pits of the subway, I would have understood that. Supported it even, tbh. Let them be weird and feral together, yelling and emoting at each other over eastbound vs westbound trains. Instead, Five, who for the past three seasons has been driven by his need to save his family, is happy to delay returning and give up on them to keep very quietly playing house with Lila. What the fuck. Lila, who cannot handle domestic life with Diego and her three children, can handle being a housewife with Five and wear soft sweaters and dresses. They didn’t try to kill each other once! I said way back after S3 aired that I didn’t like Lila’s pregnancy plot because it was going to tie her down in weird ways, and lo and behold! UA writers cannot write women, and it sucks that Lila was yet another casualty of that.

And then the whole thing shafts Diego. I know Diego and Lila don’t have a particularly healthy relationship, but he’s an Umbrella and Lila’s mom is the Handler. I think they do pretty well for what they’re working with, they have a fun chemistry, and it seemed (before this season) they really loved each other. Why did Steve write them off instead of letting their arc be them falling back in love (well, I guess that was Diego’s arc. Wasn’t Lila’s)? Now the three of them get to spend the final episode of the entire show in an unhappy, unnecessary love triangle instead of us getting to watch the Umbrella Academy fully join together to save the world one last time.

After all of that, the rest of my complaints feel like small potatoes. Why don’t we do another numbered list to round out this essay. In no particular order –

It sucks Ben was the plot driver of the season and then doesn’t even get to die with his family, just melted and turned into mindless Cleanse Goo. I was excited for him to get to do more, was excited for a payoff for Viktor trying to return the favor of Umbrella Ben sacrificing himself for him. I wish the Cleanse was more squiddy because it was made out of the two squiddiest characters.

UA has gotten more and more flexible with powers as the seasons have gone, but I straight up do not know what Allison’s power was at the end. Was she telekinetic? Was she Rumoring reality? Why did we have to use that to graphically crush a man’s balls in front of Claire? I liked that the powers got an upgrade and a twist, for the most part, but that only works if we know what they are. Lila has laser eyes and I thought that was it until they needed her to mimic powers again in the last episode. Five can’t blink anymore because he now just goes to the subway (still an aesthetic that is cool, and a cool way to have it tied in a different way to time), unless he’s doing it with Lila? Viktor just has energy now, I guess, sound doesn’t seem to be part of it.

Abigail. I did not fully follow what her motivation was. I wanted her to be comically evil, worse than Reggie, but – again- UA writers can’t write women so I guess she was just a good guy benevolently taking skin suits so she could get the world to end to save the world. Boring. Reggie also should have recognized his wife even if she was wearing Gene and kissed Nick Offerman.

Why didn’t Five have a reaction to his Apocalypse? He had PTSD flashbacks in S1! He was trapped there for four decades! It’s been six years but it’s not like he was working on his mental health during that time. No reaction???? Don’t even get me started on Delores and his “Good thing I’ve never been married” comment.

I’m not usually for fan service, but it felt like the season was actively trying to avoid fan service. Was Gene and Jean’s dance really the only dance party of the season? Five doesn’t have a single fight scene to fun music? Five doesn’t kill anyone all season??? What the fuck.

I wish the Fives in the Five Diner were Sean Sullivan. Bring back Old Five, why would Five fuck up his jump back in every timeline.

The gratuitous fat shaming. It’s always been bad with Luther, but absolutely ridiculous the comments made about Diego.

I don’t particularly like Sloane but where the fuck was Sloane. And I hope Ray not being in the show was a scheduling conflict, because that was tragic that he off-screen left Allison with no further explanation or context. Didn’t feel very Ray.  

A lot of character arcs from over the whole show stagnate or go backwards. Luther is back at the Academy after working to build his own identity. Klaus I guess has to be on drugs if he has his powers. I don’t know what’s going on with Allison and Claire’s relationship – it seems bad at the beginning but just sort of fixes itself when they go rescue Klaus? Diego tries to have an arc to understand how much good he has with his family, but the writers won’t let Lila be part of that. Don't get me started on Five.

I wish the writing team cared enough to actually know the characters. Luther’s powers aren’t tied to him being gorilla’d – that was a separate event, why would the marigolds re-gorilla him. Lila likes bracelets, one of the very first things she did in the show was take and keep the one Diego made. It’s little things, but they go a long way in making us know the creative team cares, rather than just jerking around these characters because they have an idea the think is funny or shocking and requires characters to go against their established personalities and motivations to pull off.

Overall – it was fine, which is not the energy you want when finishing one of the most popular shows on one of the biggest streaming platforms. I get why people are upset, I get a lot of mourning is happening, but I hope we can find a spot where we can enjoy what we have and play in the space again.

It was always going to be a rough goodbye. This show, as cliché as it is, changed my life. I started writing because of it. I’ve made some incredible friends because of it. It helped me figure out I was trans, because of Elliot Page. I’m going to miss it. I’m going to keep hanging around here having fun with the characters, but I’ll miss the fandom, too, as people move on to whatever the next new thing is.

It's been a ride, everyone!

[maximoffcarter]

You're stuck with me.

Pairings: Casey Novak x reader.

Summary: Casey Novak and reader joined the squad almost at the same time, but as soon as they met, there was a spark that they couldn't deny. They were so in love that nothing really mattered to them, but maybe reader's last name could be a problem?"

A/n: This was requested by an anon, they gave me the choice to either use it with Alex or reader so...I decided to make reader a Cabot haha. I hope you guys enjoy this and please don't be afraid to send me any requests or ideas that you have, the more I have, the more I'm willing to post. I've missed so much writing that I'm having the time of my life. Enjoy and leave your comments, reblogs, hearts, whatever you'd like, will be very much appreciated🫶🏻

*not my gif*

When y/n joined the SVU squad, the last thing she wanted was to be known as Alex Cabot’s little sister. Everywhere she went, even the most unexpected places in New York, they knew about the Cabot legacy, and it was for sure that precinct sixteen knew very well who Alex Cabot was, but y/n was working her way through to be a detective in Boston, wanting to stay away from Manhattan as much as she could. Her idea had even been to be transferred to Chicago at some point, but for some reason -maybe destiny- she ended up being transferred to SVU. She had almost begged Cragen to not tell people she was a Cabot, she knew how everyone appreciated her and were devastated when she had ‘died’, but the last thing she needed, was to be reminded of her name. Of course, it was inevitable, but she thought that at least she tried. The whole squad treated her like she was part of the family, saying she reminded them so much of Alex. She wasn’t too mad about it, but she wanted to be recognized for her work, for herself, not for Alex or her last name.

The only person that truly recognized her for who she was, just y/n, was Casey Novak. Casey and y/n had almost joined at the same time, both understanding each other in some level since they were the new members of team and they both felt left out even if they were all over y/n. Y/n tried to convince herself that since only Olivia and Elliot knew that Alex was alive, maybe the rest of the team just wanted to make sure that she was safe, and Olivia and Elliot knew that if they didn’t take care of y/n, then Alex would come back from the dead and kill them both.

But Casey, she only saw her as y/n, as the sweet girl that she happened to run into while she was leaving court, the sweet girl that was in charge of asking Casey for warrants if they needed one, the sweet girl that she was starting to fall for. For Casey, she was only y/n, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. Y/n had become so close with Casey that she couldn’t help her heart, she had started to fall in love with her, and she kinda hated it because it was against her rules, to date someone she worked with, and the very first rule; never date attorneys. But did she mind? Not one bit. Not when it came to Casey.

Casey looked up as y/n leaned over the doorframe with a silly smile. “You’re here to ask for a warrant, aren’t you?” She grinned.

Y/n chuckled. “How do you know?” She raised her brow as she walked to Casey’s desk and sat on it, looking down at Casey. “You know that’s mostly my job.” She grinned.

“Right, because they know we’re close and I wouldn’t come for your ass.” Casey grinned as she looked up at y/n. “Johansson case?”

“Yep.” Y/n sighed. “We believe he might be hiding something in his apartment, but he won’t tell us more. We believe his wife is also involved and she might be hiding something. We have enough reason to go to his apartment.”

Casey sighed softly. “Fine. Donnelly is the judge. I’m sure I can convince her.” She then smirked. “Or I can just tell her that y/n Cabot told me she needed it.”

Y/n furrowed her brows. “Hey, thought you were my friend.” She shook her head. “Do not use my last name.”

Casey stood up and stood in front of y/n. “You know I’m kidding. I’d never do that, even if they asked me to.” She offered a sweet smile.

Y/n smiled softly. “I know.”

Casey looked down at the floor for a moment as she moved closer to y/n, positioning herself between her legs. “So…only friends, huh?” She looked up at y/n, she had that little grin and look in her eyes that made y/n’s knees weak.

Y/n gulped as she looked up at Casey. “Uh…well, we…we never-“

Casey tilted her head. “I thought it was pretty clear.” She whispered softly, her voice becoming raspier.

“What?” Y/n whispered softly as Casey got impossibly closer to her body.

“That I want more than just a friendship.” Casey smirked as her hand went to y/n’s waist and the other on y/n’s neck, her finger tracing y/n lips as she wetted her own. “That you’re mine.” She tilted her head again. “Or do I need to remind you?”

Y/n felt her breath hitched, her body reacting to Casey’s touch instantly, and her hands going to Casey’s waist to pull her closer. “You don’t need to, but I’d like you to still remind me.” She grinned softly.

Casey chuckled darkly, leaning down, and closing the gap between them in a slow but passionate kiss, earning a moan from y/n as Casey gripped the back of her hair. Y/n kissed her back, wrapping her legs around Casey, making her arms wrap around y/n’s neck as she felt herself almost tripping, making them pull away. They laughed softly as Casey rested her forehead against y/n’s.

“I’m sorry.” Y/n whispered softly, looking up at Casey.

“You got a little too excited there.” Casey chuckled as she kissed her forehead softly. “But hey…” She placed her hand on y/n’s cheek and smiled. “I mean it. I do want us…this. To be more.”

“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Casey Novak?” Y/n smiled.

Casey grinned as she nodded. “I am, y/n Cabot.”

Y/n chuckled softly. “Then my answer is yes. I’d love to.” She smiled as she leaned in to kiss her lips again. “You know that anyone could walk in and find us like this, right?”

Casey looked behind y/n and chuckled, looking back at y/n. “You got something on your eye, I was just helping you.” She grinned as she kissed her nose.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, but before she could say anything else, her phone went off, sighing softly. “That could be Liv.”

“I’ll go get you the warrant.” Casey kissed her lips one more time before she moved. “I’ll call you when I have it.”

Y/n nodded. “Thanks.” She smiled before he hopped off the desk and made her way out of the office. “See you later!”

********************

A whole year passed when y/n had asked Casey to move in with her, the whole squad now knew that the two women were dating, and they would be lying if they said they didn’t see it coming. They became closer than ever, and their love only grew stronger, making every day easier to go by. Y/n had already mentioned Casey to her parents, knowing that even if they didn’t have Alex anymore, they could be happy with the thought that their little girl was happy with someone by her side, a surprise visit happened and that’s when Casey met y/n’s parents. Everything went smoothly, her parents loved Casey and were happy for y/n. But then her mother passed away, and Casey stood by her side every step of the way. Casey knew how hard it was for y/n to not have Alex by her side, so she tried her best to be there whenever y/n needed her. What she didn’t expect after a few months, was the arrival of a case that brought her sister back from the dead.

The moment Alex came back, y/n told her everything that had happened after she joined SVU, and of course, she couldn’t leave out that her girlfriend was the one that was prosecuting the guy that shot her. Y/n sat with Casey and Alex through the whole thing, both supporting her girlfriend and supporting her sister, she knew Casey felt more pressure knowing that y/n cared so much about this case, not only for Antonio but for Alex too. Once the whole trial was over, y/n went to meet Alex, receiving a call that she had to go again for a while and she didn’t know for how long, so they met for a final coffee to say goodbye. Y/n went back to their apartment and closed the door behind her, taking off her coat and putting it on the rack, making her way to the living room and smiled as she found Casey on the couch.

“Hey there.” Casey smiled as she closed the file she had on her lap, putting it aside as she extended her arms for y/n.

Y/n sat on Casey’s lap and wrapped her arms around her middle, burying her face on Casey’s neck as she wrapped her arms around y/n. “Thought I’d find you asleep.”

“I wanted to wait for you.” Casey kissed her forehead softly, her hands going up and down her back.

Y/n sighed softly. “She’s gone, not sure for how long.”

“I’m sorry, baby. But it’s for her safety.”

Y/n nodded. “I know.”

“I got a call from my dad.” Casey whispered softly. “He wants me to visit this weekend for my mom’s birthday.”

“When are you leaving?” Y/n asked softly.

Casey nibbled her lip. “I was…thinking…we could in the afternoon on Friday.”

Y/n moved to look at Casey, fully sitting on her lap. “You...you want me to come with you?”

Casey smiled softly, softly stroking her hips. “I do. I’ve told them about you, and they really want to meet you.”

“Are you sure?”

Casey chuckled. “Baby, I was lucky enough to meet your mom, I already met your parents. I thought maybe it was time you meet mine.”

Y/n smiled softly as she placed her hands on Casey’s neck, leaning down to kiss her lips softly. “I’d love to.” She chuckled. “Alex said she’s happy I found someone. She thought I’d die alone.”

“I’m not gonna let that happen. You’re stuck with me.” Casey placed her hand on y/n’s neck bringing her down again for another kiss.

“Oh, I definitely like the sound of that.” Y/n said against her lips, kissing her again tenderly.

********************

The whole ride to Casey’s house, y/n had been a nervous wreck. She knew Casey wasn’t that close to her family, not after all she had gone through and then coming out to her parents had also been a bit of a problem but finally they came to terms with it, wanting nothing more than seeing her daughter happy. Y/n knew Casey was Catholic, she had grown in the religion, but she had decided to not follow it when she was older enough to choose for herself, which was also the reason she was not as close to her parents as she used to be. Casey reassured her the whole ride that her parents were excited to meet her and see who had her daughter so happy, Casey had told them enough about y/n, just a little heads up on who she was and how they met, which made y/n feel a bit better because at least there wouldn’t be like a million of questions; maybe just like a thousand.

Y/n took a deep breath as Casey parked right in front of the house. It was a casual family house, which she felt some sort of comfort as she looked at it, a faint smile on her face as she thought about a young Casey running around the house and practicing softball outside. She had seen some pictures of Casey when she was a kid, so now seeing the house she grew up in made her feel warm inside. She turned to look at Casey who had been staring at her this whole time, grabbing y/n’s hand, and bringing it to her lips, kissing it softly.

“Everything will be okay. I love you, and that’s all that matters.” Casey smiled softly.

Y/n nodded softly as she offered a small smile. “I love you too.” She sighed. “Sorry I just…this is the first time I actually meet the parents and I just…I want them to like me. I- I don’t know.” She chuckled nervously.

“If your parents accepted me, trust me…mine will.” Casey chuckled softly as she leaned in and kissed her cheek. “If you don’t feel comfortable, we’ll just leave, okay?”

“I don’t want you to lose your mom’s party tomorrow.”

“We’ll figure it out then. But I’m not leaving you.” Casey smiled as she kissed her hand one more time before she exited the car and went to the other side to open the door for y/n.

As they walked to the door, Casey grabbed y/n’s hand and held it tightly, feeling how y/n had started trembling a little as the moment started to feel more real with every step they took. Casey looked at y/n and leaned in to kiss her lips before she knocked on the door, telling her that it would be okay one last time before the door was opened. Y/n didn’t know what she had expected Casey’s parents to be like, but of course they were as tall as Casey, her dad being way taller, both had bright smiles on their faces as they looked at both women. She could see where Casey got that beautiful smile she loved, she looked exactly like her mom, her hair very similar, and she definitely had her dad’s eyes. The father was the first one to wrap his arms around Casey, squeezing her tightly, making y/n smile. And then she took a deep breath as she noticed Casey’s mother opening her arms to hug y/n.

“Oh, y/n! You’re just as beautiful as our girl described!” Her mother wrapped her in a big, tight hug, chuckling softly. “I’m Angela, but you can call me Angie.” She pulled away and smiled brightly, going for her daughter next.

“And I’m Tom. It is so nice to meet you, y/n.” He said with a smile and also wrapped his arms around her. “But please! C’mon in, we have the table ready! We figured you guys would be hungry after that drive, so get in here. I’ll take care of your bags!” He said as he walked out of the house and made his way to Casey’s car.

“Oh, honey, you look so good! Happiness really suits you.” Angie winked at Casey and walked inside the house.

Casey chuckled softly and looked at y/n, leaning over to whisper in her ear. “Forgot to tell you that they’re huggers.”

“Thanks for the heads up.” Y/n chuckled softly as she followed Casey.

The rest of the dinner went smoothly, most of the conversation had been about Casey’s childhood and college days, y/n enjoying every minute of it as she was hoping that they wouldn’t start asking about her. The only thing she had mentioned was why she decided to be a detective and if she enjoyed working with their daughter, and y/n was more than happy to answer those questions. Casey spent the whole dinner trying to hide her blush as she tried to stop their parents from talking more about her, but also enjoying so much the way y/n was just happy and laughing at everything they had to say, even if they were embarrassing stories, she was just happy that after all the nerves, her girlfriend was happy and relaxed. Tom had dragged Casey to the living room to show her something that he had recently purchased while y/n had offered to help Angie with the dishes and to clean the kitchen.

“You really didn’t have to help with the dishes, y/n. You’re a guest here.” Angie said as she looked at y/n.

“It’s the least I can do. Dinner was delicious and I wanted to say thank you.” Y/n smiled as she finished the last dish, and dried her hands before she looked back at Angie.

“Then use your words, honey.” Angie chuckled. “But I appreciate it. You’re very kind, y/n.” She smiled softly. “And I can definitely see why my daughter loves you so much.”

Y/n blushed slightly, trying not to look away. “I love her just as much, if not more.” She smiled.

“I’m excited for you to meet the whole family tomorrow! Let me tell you that the house will be crowded, my favorite.” She chuckled.

“I’m excited to meet them.” Y/n smiled.

“I was telling Tom that it would be nice to meet your parents soon, we could set up a dinner and we could go the 6 of us.”

Y/n cleared her throat as she looked down at her hands. “I uh…I’m sure my dad would be more than happy.” She looked back at Angie as she offered a small smile. “My…mom. She passed away a little while ago.”

“Oh, honey. I am so sorry, I didn’t know.” Angie placed her hand on y/n’s shoulder. “I’m sure she was a lovely woman.”

“The best.” Y/n smiled softly. “She loved Casey, she got to meet her.”

Angie smiled. “I’d have loved to meet her.”

“Angie, let these ladies go up to their room so they get some rest, we have a big day tomorrow and the need their beauty sleep. Even if they’re already beautiful.” Tom chuckled softly.

Y/n looked back at Casey and smiled softly, but Casey knew there was something going on. They said their goodnights and headed upstairs. Casey opened the door to what used to be her room and smiled as she noticed that they had barely changed it, most of her things were still there, medals and trophies, some diplomas, and pictures, all untouched. Y/n smiled as she looked around, fascinated to see more of Casey’s childhood.

“You’re living for this, aren’t you?” Casey playfully said as she closed the door behind her.

Y/n turned to look at y/n and smiled. “Can’t say I’m not.” She chuckled softly. “Your parents are so nice, and your house is beautiful. Your room…definitely fits you, even now.” She teased as she walked to Casey.

Casey chuckled softly, wrapping her arms around her waist, and kissing her lips softly. “You’re cute.”

“Of course I am.” Y/n chuckled as she wrapped her arms around Casey’s neck. “Thank you for bringing me with you.”

“How could I not? At least I won’t suffer on my own tomorrow.” Casey grinned.

Y/n rolled her eyes softly. “Right.”

Casey tilted her head softly. “Are you okay? I saw you a bit off with mom.”

Y/n smiled. “Your mom said she wanted to meet my parents.” She shrugged. “Had to break the news that my mom is gone.”

“Shit. Baby, I’m so sorry. I forgot to tell her and to not mention it.”

“Hey.” Y/n placed her hand on Casey’s cheek and stroked it softly. “It’s okay. I promise.” She smiled softly. “C’mon, we should go to sleep, we need to prepare for tomorrow’s big party.” She chuckled.

Casey nodded as she smiled. “You’re starting to sound like my parents.” She laughed as she pulled y/n to the bed.

********************

After breakfast, both women went back to their room to get ready for the party and not even an hour later, the whole house was crowded with both friends and family members. Casey and y/n took a moment for themselves and then went downstairs, ready to be bombarded with questions and hugs. Just like Angie had said, the whole house was crowded, they were all over Casey since they hadn’t seen her in so long, and Casey never let go of y/n’s hand unless she was saying hi to someone or someone hugged her -the also hugged y/n-. The party was going great, they had all gone to the back of the house into the beautiful patio, there was music, snacks, they were preparing a barbeque, things seemed to go perfectly fine. Casey made sure to always have y/n by her side, knowing that her girlfriend had anxiety and sometimes she got a bit overwhelmed by big crowds. Just as they thought they were finally free to get away from the family, another family member appeared right in front of them.

“Casey, it’s been so long.” She smiled.

Casey nodded. “Aunt Claire, nice to see you. “She offered a small smile. “This is my girlfriend, y/n.”

Y/n smiled and extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Claire furrowed her brows and tilted her head. “You…look familiar. Have we met before?”

Y/n furrowed her brows as she smiled. “Um…I don’t think so.”

“Do you work with Casey?”

Casey looked at her with a serious look on her face. “Yes, she does work with me.”

“Ah, another attorney, huh? She follows in your steps too, Casey? Not wanting to do anything for your uncle?”

“Claire, are you seriously going to do this today? On my birthday?” Angie raised her brow as she walked to them, crossing her arms.

“Oh, c’mon, Ang. I asked your daughter a favor and she couldn’t help me. She doesn’t help her so called family.”

“Claire, please stop.” Angie snapped as she looked at her. “Please, let’s not do this here. And no, y/n is a detective, she works with Casey. Do not scare her away with your things, Claire. You’re my sister and I love you, but please-“

“Wait.” Claire looked back at y/n. “I know where I’ve seen you. You’re not an attorney, but your sister was.” She laughed darkly. “Your whole family. One of your uncles. You’re a Cabot.”

Y/n’s heart stopped as she looked at Casey, a little confused as to what was happening. “I…yes. But-“

“Casey?” Angie asked as she looked between Casey and y/n. “She’s a Cabot?”

Casey sighed as she nodded. “She is.”

Y/n looked at Casey furrowing her brows. “What does that have to do with me? Is there a problem that I’m a Cabot?”

“Your uncle…that stupid attorney. He put my husband in jail, and he had no mercy on him, now he’s locked up for good and he won’t ever get out! He made sure of that.” Claire snapped and then look at Casey. “And you. You should be ashamed. Not only for dating a girl, but for letting a Cabot come to this house. How dare you, Casey? You didn’t want to help your uncle, and now you bring her here?!”

“Stop! It wasn’t her who did it. And if he’s in jail, is for a good reason.” Casey snapped back as she looked at Claire, her hand grabbing y/n’s tightly.

“Casey Grace Novak! You do not speak to your aunt like that!” Angie looked at Casey and stood between Claire and Casey. “You know damn well that we support your aunt, and we always said the Cabot’s were not good people.”

“Mom.” Casey whispered softly.

Angie looked behind Casey with a serious look. “I’m sorry, y/n. But you’re not welcomed here.”

“Mom!” Casey shook her head. “I cannot believe you’re saying that.”

“You knew that we do not like the Cabot’s. You knew she was a Cabot and still chose to bring her here. You should know better, Casey. You should’ve never fallen in love with this girl.”

“That’s enough! I will not let you speak to my girlfriend like that. You know damn well why he’s in jail and you still protect him. And you know what? Yes, she’s a Cabot, and I love her, and I’m not gonna let any of you speak like that in front of her. I made a mistake in coming back.” Casey looked back at y/n and whispered in her ear. “Let’s go, baby.”

Casey pulled her inside the house and took her upstairs to grab their things. Y/n only stood there frozen as Casey put everything in their bags without saying a word, once she checked that she had everything, she grabbed both bags and told y/n to follow her. Casey could still hear Claire yelling horrible things about y/n and her family, she didn’t even care about closing the door as they rushed to Casey’s car. 15 minutes into the road, Casey finally snapped out of her trance and looked at y/n, noticing that she was just as quiet as she was, but she could see some tears in her eyes. Casey sighed softly and decided to stop the car in a gas station, killing the engine and turning to look at y/n.

“Baby?” Casey whispered softly.

“Why didn’t you tell me about that?” Y/n whispered softly.

Casey sighed. “I didn’t think it was important. Claire, she- she hadn’t been to any family event in so long, I didn’t know my mom still talked to her. I really thought they had left that behind and-“

“But you knew…that your family didn’t approve of mine.” Y/n looked at Casey, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You never told them I was a Cabot.”

Casey looked down at her hands and shook her head. “No.”

Y/n nodded as she looked away. “Can we just go? I wanna go home.” Her voice broke as she said the last word, turning from Casey and crossing her arms. Casey stared at her for a moment but nodded softly.

The ride back they were in complete silence. Casey knew what she had done was wrong, but she had never agreed with her family, she had denied to help because she knew what her ‘uncle’ had done and she had decided to back away from it, and yes, she knew how her family had blamed the Cabot’s, but she never thought she’d be involved with them. Not only had she taken Alex’s job, but now she was dating a Cabot. She was sure that if they knew that she had helped Alex, they would have lost it. As for y/n, the interaction they had had the night before was still stuck in her mind which broke her heart entirely as she figured that it all had been a lie because they didn’t really know who she was, and now that they knew, they didn’t like her, Casey’s mother has clearly said that she was not welcomed. And once again, she hated the fact that she was a Cabot. She loved her family, she loved her parents, but she hated that things like this still happened till this day.

Once they were back in their apartment, y/n helped Casey with their bags and rapidly went into their apartment and into their room, both women still in complete silence. Y/n changed into comfortable clothes and then laid in their bed, crying as she felt overwhelmed by what had happened. She heard Casey walking into the room and figured she too wanted to change, so she didn’t say anything, it was their room after all. Y/n didn’t know when she had fallen asleep, but as she opened her eyes, she figured the sun had hidden and night had taken over, making her look at her clock in the nightstand and saw it was pass seven. She sighed softly and stretched before she got up and walked out of the room. She headed to the kitchen and to her surprise, Casey was sitting at the kitchen island with some files in front of her and writing something in her notepad. She looked up as y/n stood in the entrance of the kitchen, both women look into each other’s eyes. Casey put her pen down and cleared her throat, ready to talk but y/n interrupted her.

“I’m sorry.” Y/n said rapidly, nibbling on her lip. “I…I shouldn’t…we should’ve talked, and I…I completely just…shut you down.”

Casey shook her head. “Y/n…I should’ve told you. I should’ve known. I just thought if they met you…they’d change their mind, and they wouldn’t say anything.” She sighed. “You’re everything to me. I do not regret meeting you, I do not regret falling in love with you, I do not regret being with you.”

Y/n looked at Casey as tears rolled down her cheeks. “You mean that?”

Casey tilted her head as her heart sank. “My love…come here.” She moved and extended her arms, y/n walked to her and wrapped her arms around her neck, Casey wrapping her arms tightly around her waist. “I love you. And I don’t care what they think or say. I want you, and no one is ever going to change that, you hear me?”

Y/n nodded softly as she buried her face in Casey’s neck. “I love you too. I don’t wanna lose you, Case.”

“I don’t wanna lose you either.” Casey kissed the side of her head and sighed softly. “Please, just…let’s not make this separate us.”

Y/n pulled away and placed her hands on Casey’s cheeks. “Nothing could ever make me stop loving you, Casey.”

Casey smiled softly as she leaned in and kissed y/n’s lips softly.

********************

“No, mom. I need you to please stop calling me.” Casey groaned as she ran her fingers through her hair, clearly stressed. “If you’re going to keep talking about y/n like that, yes. I will literally block you, I do not care!” Casey slammed the phone and sighed heavily.

“Bad moment?” Elliot asked as he looked at Casey.

Casey looked up and shook her head. “No, sorry. I’m- done. What do you need?” Casey sat back down in her chair and looked at Elliot.

Elliot nodded. “Wanna talk about it?”

Casey raised her brow as she huffed a chuckle. “You’re gonna play shrink?”

Elliot huffed a laugh and shrugged. “Can’t say I’m the best at it, but I know I have run to some after a bad day or moment.” He said as he walked to Casey, sitting down on a chair.

Casey sighed and shook her head. “Just family stuff.”

“Something wrong with y/n? I heard you mention her.”

“Let’s just say my family has history with the Cabot’s, and…when they found out she was a Cabot…they almost killed me.” Casey nibbled on her lower lip as she looked down at her hands.

Elliot nodded. “I get it.” He cleared his throat and shrugged. “And? What are you gonna do?”

“Put a restraining order on my family.” Casey scoffed. “They keep calling me, and I have no doubt my mom will make an appearance sooner or later.”

“You love y/n. That’s all that matters. Family? It’s not always the ones you share blood with.”

Casey nodded. “I know. I just…thought that maybe we could finally reconnect, and I was sure they’d love y/n. But…” she shrugged. “Didn’t happen.”

“You know you have us. And you have y/n, who wouldn’t leave your side. Whatever your family thinks, screw them. Even if y/n is a Cabot, which doesn’t define her.”

Casey smiled softly as she looked at Elliot. “You’re spending too much time with Huang.”

Elliot laughed. “Did it help?”

“A bit.” Casey smiled. “Thanks.”

Elliot nodded. “Good.” He stood up. “We need you down at the precinct.”

“You could’ve called.” Casey furrowed her brows.

Elliot shrugged. “You were on my way. I decided to stop by.”

Casey grinned as she shook her head, taking a deep breath and standing up. “Let’s go then.”

********************

Y/n paced around the waiting room, tears rolling down her cheeks as she tried to breath. She kept hearing Olivia telling her to sit down but she knew if she sat down, she was going to break down and she couldn’t do that. Not when her girlfriend was literally in surgery. Y/n had decided to go home to take a break from the case, and Olivia had offered to stay in the office to work with Casey and go over the case, what she had not expected was for Casey to get attacked, and now here they were, in the hospital. Y/n overthought every possible scenario that could’ve prevented this, but even if she did, there was nothing else she could do. Things had been pretty tense since that day back with Casey’s family, and this was the last straw they needed. Y/n felt a pair of hands on her shoulders and was about to tell Olivia that she didn’t need to sit down but as she turned, she found Alex standing right in front of her.

“Lex.” Y/n breathed out as she wrapped her arms around Alex. “You’re here.” She whispered softly as she sobbed.

“I’m here.” Alex whispered softly as she kissed her forehead.

“I should’ve stayed with Casey.” Y/n cried out, closing her eyes as more tears rolled down her cheeks.

“There was nothing you could do, y/n. Don’t torment yourself.” Alex pulled away enough to look down at y/n. “Elliot is taking care of it, okay?”

Y/n nodded softly, wrapping her arms around Alex. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“You needed me.” Alex whispered softly as she kissed her forehead again.

Alex had finally made y/n sit down beside her, her arm wrapped around her as y/n leaned into her, tears still rolling down her cheeks but at least she was a little more calm than earlier. They sat there in silence for a moment, just waiting to hear back from Casey. Y/n’s mind was filled with the ‘what ifs’, she hated that she hadn’t been there to help Casey, to avoid this from happening. Olivia had found her unconscious, and she hadn’t woken up at all, so what were the odds of her actually waking up now? Alex kept trying to get her to talk about something, anything at all, but y/n just answered shortly, not feeling like talking, but knowing perfectly what Alex was doing.

“Casey’s family hates me.” Y/n whispered softly.

“You meet parents for the first time, and this is how it goes?” Alex asks playfully.

“I think Uncle John convicted Casey’s uncle. They hate the Cabot’s.”

Alex sighed as she looked down at y/n. “Casey never told you?”

Y/n shook her head. “She never supported her family with this, so stayed away from it, so the effect didn’t get to her. And that’s why she didn’t mind dating me.”

“And I’m sure she doesn’t regret it.” Alex smiled softly.

Y/n looked up at Alex and smiled softly. “She doesn’t.”

“Then I don’t think Casey really cares what her family has to say. You’re an amazing person, y/n. And if Casey loves you, then that’s all that matters.” Alex smiled as she ran her hand through y/n’s hair. “Us Cabot’s…well…there won’t be a time where we are not recognized for something. And you’re now leaving your mark too.” She kissed her forehead softly. “I’m sorry you’re a Cabot.” She chuckled.

Y/n sighed softly as she rested her head against Alex’s shoulder again. “I’m not. I just…wish we were more than a Cabot.”

“We are. You are.” Alex smiled softly. “So…I take it that when you and Casey get married, you’ll take Casey’s last name?” She grinned.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully as she looked back at Alex. “You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“Oh, c’mon. You’re telling me you haven’t thought about it?” Alex raised her brow.

“I mean…” y/n shrugged as she blushed slightly. “I guess.”

“Y/n Novak…sounds good to me. I’m sure Casey also loves the idea.” Alex smiled.

“You’re a pain in the ass.” Y/n chuckled.

“You missed me.” Alex chuckled as she pulled her back into her arms.

After an hour or so, Alex had convinced y/n to have some lunch with her at least in the cafeteria of the hospital, and Olivia promised she wouldn’t move at all until they were back. And a bit after, Olivia had been notified that Casey was out of surgery and in her room, Olivia had called Alex to let her know and she stayed with Casey until y/n came back. Y/n mentally prepared herself before she walked into the room, afraid of what she could see. Olivia had been the only one to see the state of Casey before she went into surgery, and just the thought of seeing Casey hurt, broke y/n’s heart. Some tears left y/n’s eyes as she walked into the room, a soft small smile on Casey’s face as she saw her girlfriend, extending her hand for her to get closer. After making sure that everything was okay, Olivia left with Alex to meet Elliot, and y/n stayed with Casey.

Y/n put the tray of food away and went back to sit with Casey on the bed, holding her hand and kissing it softly. “Do you want to get some more sleep?”

Casey shook her head. “No. I just…I mean maybe I should.” She sighed.

Y/n tilted her head. “Your memory will come back, Case. You need to stop pushing yourself.”

“I know but…I couldn’t even defend myself.” Casey’s voice broke as she looked at y/n.

“Baby…you did what you had to do. You’re here. That’s all that matters. They’ll get whoever did this.”

Casey nodded softly. “Are they gonna let you stay?”

“Even if they didn’t, I’m staying.” Y/n chuckled softly. “Hey uh…I left a text to your mom.” She looked down at their hands.

“What?” Casey furrowed her brows. “Y/n-“

“They’re your family, Case. Even if they don’t accept me, they should know about their daughter.” Y/n looked back at Casey, offering a small smile. “I’m not going anywhere, no matter what.”

Casey nodded softly. “Thank you.” She smiled softly.

Y/n smiled as she leaned in and kissed Casey’s head softly. “I love you, and you’re stuck with me, forever.” She chuckled.

“Forever sounds good.” Casey grinned.

********************

“Y/n, c’mon. I can walk, I literally went to the office yesterday and to court.” Casey groaned as y/n helped her sit down on the couch.

“Which you shouldn’t have. You know the heart attack you gave me when Elliot told me he saw you in court?” Y/n shook her head. “You should’ve called me, Case.”

“I knew you’d bring me back.” Casey looked at y/n with puppy eyes.

Y/n rolled her eyes as she sat beside Casey. “You’re impossible.” She leaned in and kissed her lips. “At least now I have 5 days free to be a pain in your ass and take care of you.” She grinned. “And you’re not escaping from this.”

“At least it’s us for 5 days.” Casey grinned. “I’m sorry.”

“No worries, just don’t be stubborn.” Y/n smiled as she pecked her lips. Just in time, there was a knock on their door. “That’s probably Alex. She said she’d come before she had to leave.” Y/n stood up and walked out of the living room. As she opened the door, her heart stopped for a moment, staring at the person in front of her.

“It’s not Alex?” Casey yelled from the living room.

“No.” Y/n cleared her throat. “Mrs. Novak.”

“Y/n.” Angie sighed. “I’m sorry I came like this, I…I was hoping I could see my daughter.”

Y/n nodded softly as she stepped aside. She closed the door behind her and started walking to the living room followed by Angie. “It’s your mom, Case.” She whispered softly as she looked at Casey.

“Mom?” Casey furrowed her brows. “What- why are you here?”

Angie sighed as she looked at Casey. “Oh, honey. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” She went to sit down beside Casey.

“I’m alright.” Casey nodded. “Y/n has been taking care of me.”

Y/n sighed softly. “I should leave you two to talk. I’ll be in the room if you need something.” She smiled softly. But before she could leave, Angie stood up and grabbed her hand and stopped her.

“Wait, y/n. I- I also wanted to talk to you. To both of you.” Angie looked back at Casey and then at y/n. “I’m not only here to see  Casey. I’m here to apologize.” Y/n furrowed her brows as she looked at Casey and then back at Angie. “I know…that you should not forgive me, what I said was wrong. But…your father and I talked, we’ve never seen you so happy, Casey.” Angie looked back at Casey and smiled. “The way you spoke about y/n, the way you protected her. The looks you give each other. I shouldn’t have said anything. Claire was so wrong to do that, and we shouldn't have believed her.”

Casey smiled softly. “You mean it?”

Angie smiled as she looked at Casey and nodded. “Yes.” She looked back at y/n and smiled, holding her other hand. “I am so sorry, y/n. It wasn’t your fault what happened in the past, and I know that you love my daughter, and my daughter loves you. I am willing to get to know you better.” She took a deep breath. “To accept you as my daughter too.”

Y/n’s face softened at her words, some tears forming in her eyes. “I’d like that.” She smiled.

“Even if we treated you badly…you were still willing to update me on Casey. And you let me come in here to see her.”

Casey furrowed her brows. “You…gave her our address?”

Y/n looked back at Casey as she shrugged. “I told you, you’re still their daughter. I just didn’t expect her to come.” She chuckled softly.

Angie chuckled. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re always welcome here. Mr. Novak too. Right, Case?” Y/n smiled.

Casey looked at them and nodded softly, smiling. “Of course.”

Angie smiled as she wrapped her arms around y/n. “Thank you for giving me another chance.”

“Of course.” Y/n smiled as they pulled away.

“Well, I don’t wanna make a doctor visit, so I thought I could make some lunch for you, if you let me.” Angie looked at Casey, walking to her and kissing her forehead.

Casey nodded. “I’m okay if y/n is okay with it.” She smiled.

“More than okay.” Y/n smiled softly.

Y/n showed Angie the kitchen and where everything was, offering her help but Angie told her to go back with Casey and she’d let them know when everything was done, looking into the fridge to see what she could do with the stuff inside. Y/n went back to the living room and smiled softly as she sat with Casey, wrapping her arm around her carefully and kissing the side of her head.

“I gotta admit that I thought she would come to kill me after I sent the address.” Y/n chuckled softly.

Casey smiled. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”

Y/n grinned. “I had to give it another try. I thought that if it worked this time, then I had a better chance in a future.”

“What for?” Casey furrowed her brows as she grinned.

“To marry you.” Y/n smiled.

Casey’s face softened as she smiled, leaning in to kiss her lips. “I like the sound of that, a lot.” She said against her lips, chuckling softly as she kissed her again. “Y/n Novak…maybe?” She grinned. “Sounds perfect.”

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. “Alex said you’d love the sound of that.”

Casey smiled. “Of course I do. But most importantly, the thought of you being my wife.” She pecked her lips softly.

“I love it.” Y/n chuckled softly as she pulled Casey for another kiss.

[eclairsnme]

♡ POV: Being The Itoshi Brother’s Elder Sister ♡

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

The troubles of an Idol.

tags: idol!you, crack comedy, reunion, familial love, sfw, somewhat of a brat (⁎⁍̴̛ᴗ⁍̴̛⁎)

notes: she's back with more demands and silliness!! ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

“Could you make that,” pointing to your chest subtly, “a little bigger?”

Sitting beside the photo editor, you closely observe her working magic on your recent photoshoot with a swimwear brand.

You thought the photos looked great until you caught on to an important missing element.

Boobs.

Big boobs to be specific.

You had boobs but they were not like Hana Haruna’s (*a Japanese pornstar*).

What is the point of posing for a swimwear brand when you lack the assets?

“Maybe if you could just accentuate it a little more,” you gestured your hands to reiterate your idea of a big boob.

“Miss, if I make it any bigger here it’ll look as if you have watermelon jugs as big as your head.”

Your photo editor had a point; your edited chest resembled overblown balloons.

But still! (╯•﹏•╰)

“Isn’t that what the people like? Do you know what they always say? ‘Big boobs don’t lie’.”

“I think you got the wrong idea here, miss.”

“We cannot let the people out there catch me lacking!”

This was your first ever swimwear photoshoot in your entire career. Usually, you will pose for makeup brands and luxury clothing brands.

Swimwear was an uncharted territory. Of course, you were a little overzealous.

Me! The idol who is perfect in every way! Perfect face, perfect figure, and perfect life — an idol who everyone knows and loves.

“Hold on a second, let me refer to my advisor for their advice.”

Imitating a handheld phone with your hands and fingers, you held it towards your ear and spoke through the mock phone.

“Hello, myself. Do you think big boobs are better or small boobs?”

You halted for a second before replying to your own quandary, “Most definitely big boobs.”

With that, you ended the “call”.

“There you have it, miss photo editor. You just have to make it big enough to look natural.”

“If you say so...”

“I am the perfect idol. I cannot lack!”

Maintaining the image of an idol sure is a tough job.

—

“Did she gain some weight?”

“She looked like she had some plastic surgery done to her nose.”

“Oh, I heard she’s dating that one foreign guy!”

“Didn’t you hear how she seduced her way into…”

“She looks like she aged like rotten cheese since her teenage years.”

“Don’t you think she’s the least talented of her siblings?”

Those were just some of the many comments you could ascertain from your dear haters coming from the live audience seat.

You know you are the epitome of perfection. No matter what they say, it would not make you hot under the collar.

Jealously sure is a terrible disease. ┐(´～｀)┌

Currently, you are on a TV show with your male costar, whom you could not really remember his name for he is just a mere NPC.

Today’s show required you to promote a romance drama you acted in last year that has finally been broadcasted this year.

You played the role of the female lead, who fell in love with the male lead at first sight.

It turns out, the group of people who were talking behind your back was this NPC costar’s groupies.

Tsk. Bunch of buzzing bees.

They were on a nonstop mission to pour vitriolic attacks on you.

Despite all the hate, you thought it was quite flattering that they were giving you such undivided attention albeit having their “idol” — NPC costar — right beside you.

Yet again, you have proved to yourself that you are indeed the star of the show! Haters are part of the package of being so irresistible!

(Ŏ艸Ŏ)

You giggled at that.

“This is the hottest romance drama of this season that is sure to get you excited!” The host bellowed, prompting a wave of applause from the audience.

You smiled at the reception.

The interview was filled with scripted questions which you accordingly answered to.

Too easy.

You just had to smile sweetly at everyone to have them fall in love with you. Even the bunch of groupies could not help but to fall for your charm.

Everything was going swimmingly until the host pulled out his wild card — an unscripted question directed at you.

“As a famous idol, do you have any real-life romantic experiences that are swoon-worthy to share with the audience?” The host said in an overly enthusiastic tone.

The audience gasps.

All the cameras were then angled at you anticipating your response.

You smiled sweetly at the host.

Does this guy hate me or something? He must be my number one hater!

Your privacy has always been prioritised as an idol.

Not much was known about your private life until the recent news of your relationship with the Itoshi siblings broke out.

Disregarding that, the matter of your romantic relationship was a topic deemed taboo even to your fans.

The genesis of the taboo nature of your private romantic life started from an honest discussion among the netizens.

They were speculating who you were romantically involved with but it was all for naught as they could not find even a speck of man involved with you.

Even when feverish stalkers took matters into their own hands, they still could not find dirt on you.

Male costars? You treated them like dirt off-camera.

Other male celebrities? You did not even bother looking in their direction or bear to breathe the same air as them for you are better than them.

It soon became apparent to them that perhaps you had a secret affair or were involved in something incredibly scandalous — maybe you were interested in unique deviances?

Their theories then became out of control and so out of pocket that everyone began making up weird conclusions of their own online, which caused a huge uproar.

In the end, everyone decided to be more hush about that topic.

In reality, the truth as to why no one was able to dig up any evidence of you in a relationship was simply because you have always been single as a pringle.

How could a young eligible, gorgeous and talented bachelorette be so single? ( ▀ 益 ▀ )

That is because your brain only contains idol-related information. Everything else? Nil.

Is this man mocking me?

“Surely someone as pretty as you would have countless opportunities for love isn’t it?” The host continued with his onslaught of probing.

Should I strangle him? Or should I just slap him? No no no. Evil monologue shut up.

You look over to your manager and gave him the death glare.

In response to that, he expeditiously told the producers to temporarily halt the program.

With hands akimbo, your tall and slim frame overwhelmed the short and stubby manager.

You frowned at him and harshly whispered to his ears, “Get me a boyfriend ASAP!”

“Eh?!”

—

The program ended and you finally let out a long sigh in the car.

“So did you find me a boyfriend yet?”

“I-I don’t think that is how relationships work! I cannot just magically bring you a boyfriend.”

“But I want a boyfriend! So find me one!” You exclaimed helplessly.

Your manager sighed at your zero concepts of relationships and love.

“Have you loved someone before?”

“Myself.”

“Other than yourself?”

“Is this a trick question or something?”

Mr Manager glances at the rearview mirror with a defeated expression.

“Have you experienced love before?”

“What’s that?” You asked, fingers on your chin unsure what the heck that meant. ಠ╭╮ಠ

“The butterflies in your stomach when you meet someone you love!” He exasperated.

“Oh, that! Whenever I catch glimpses of myself in the mirror, I get this inexplicable feeling of that thing you described!”

This was a lost cause. Although you acted in numerous romance dramas, you still did not grasp the meaning of love. What a hypocrisy it is.

“To have a boyfriend, you must first love that person!”

“What? That sounds like a hassle. I just want a boyfriend.”

Mr manager scrunched his nose in disbelief.

“And why do you exactly want a ‘boyfriend’? This can’t be another of your impulsive thoughts is it?”

Mr manager had a déjà vu of a time when you ordered him to get you a pet tiger.

“No, it is not! What with all these questions, Mr interrogator?”

“…”

“Shut up and just get me a boyfriend.”

“So I have the right to set you up on a date?”

“Whatever it is, I want a boyfriend. I am being very extremely superbly serious!” You said with finality.

Mr Manager could only sigh in defeat yet again for the umpteenth time.

“But you are a public figure–”

You snapped at Mr Manager, “Shut up!”

He continued driving the car, looking at you through the rear-view mirror.

Any man would die to date you; you were a beguiling and dazzling lady. However, your attitude was something he was not sure any man would be able to handle.

In his entire career of being your manager, not once has he had a good day. Every day was filled with problems caused by you that he had to solve.

His brow scrunched together in grim defeat.

Boyfriend huh? Good luck to that unlucky guy.

You, on the other hand, seating cross-legged in the backseat, were marinating in annoyance.

After experiencing the mockery of the host deprecating your love life, you could not let that slide.

You had to ratio him.

Was it immature? Debatable.

Your only participation in this so-called romantic relationship concept was acting in dramas and movies.

And your exposure to the male species was…

Ehem.

Despite being an idol, your otherwise desolate personal life painted you as a lone wolf.

In your life, it was all work and dedication to being the best.

You were on fire! On fire to get a boyfriend! You will show them that you are capable of anything, and not lacking in any department!

The constant buzz of your phone eventually broke you out of your daze.

When you saw the screen, you immediately picked up the call.

“Rin!”

“I’m one step closer to demolishing brother.”

Eh? ！(◎_◎;)

You took the phone away from your ear and stared into the screen making sure you have the right person on the phone.

After confirming it’s the right person, you responded, “What do you mean demolishing your brother?”

“I’ve joined Paris X Gen in Blue Lock to become the best striker and to destroy brother.”

“Mmm… you are destroying my heart, Rin. Why are you still talking about your brother like this?”

“I will be better and he will finally acknowledge me.”

You murmured incoherent thoughts with a frown.

This pent-up hatred can go no further!

“Sister?”

“Where are you now?”

“In the Blue Lock facility. Why?”

You hung up the phone.

“Drive me to this Blue Lock facility place,” you ordered Mr Manager.

—

As soon as you arrive at the Blue Lock building, you were met with strict security.

“Let me in you low-life man.”

“Miss, this is not a place you can just walk in.”

“And a measly man like you can?”

You had been at this for a good 10 minutes, going back and forth with the stubby man and his group of security guards.

Getting sick and tired of this nonsense, you slap the man's fake wig off his head. The wig which was so fake you could see your reflection on it, flew away dramatically and plopped onto the hard asphalt ground.

“M-my hair!” He ran straight to the plastic wig.

“What’s with all these ruckus?”

The hairless man exclaimed at the sight of the short-haired woman.

Your attention went towards the petite, short-haired woman. She looked about your age. As she moved closer to you, almost immediately, your attention snapped to her big bust.

Those are what I call knockers! OMG! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Too busy ogling at her melons, you didn’t realise she was calling out for you.

Snapping yourself out of it, you introduced yourself.

“You are the popular idol!” The busty lady interrupted you, “I am, Anri Teieri, the manager of this facility. This is a strictly out-of-bounds area. What business does an idol like you have here?”

“Miss Anri, you see I have an underaged brother here and I, as his attending guardian, need to see him.”

“I’m sorry, but only authorised personnel can enter the premises.”

“Then authorise me. My little brother is feeling so homesick he was practically begging on his knees to meet me.”

“Every participant here is dedicated to being the best striker, we cannot afford any distractions such as yourself. I’m sure your little brother understands this — it’s all part of the process,” Anri puffed her chest out.

Seeing the physics of her melons do their job, you unconsciously covered your own chest.

That’s unfair! _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):

Anri observed the female opposite her. Hands down, you are the most beautiful woman she had ever laid eyes on. A face sculpted by the gods and paired with those glassy teal eyes that just compelled attraction. Of course, she knew who you are — who doesn’t.

Honestly, Anri was a huge fan of your work. She had collected all your albums and watched all your shows.

You could say that she’s a fan girl.

She also knew that you were the older sister of Rin Itoshi. She had looked through each player's records and with the recent breakout news that you are related to the Itoshi siblings, no doubt you are his sister.

However, she cannot haphazardly let you enter.

What goes on inside Blue Lock is confidential.

“Who is in charge of this building? Call him out now,” you demanded, unwilling to leave until you got what you want.

As if the big man up there had heard your quandary, Anri’s phone rang and it was Ego.

“Let her in,” the deep voice reverberated in her ear.

Ego stared at the monitor, observing Anri and the idol through the surveillance camera.

“But,” Anri tried to protest to no avail as Ego quickly intercepted.

“No harm letting her in.”

With that, the call ended, leaving a befuddled Anri.

“The general manager called and said you are allowed in,” Anri hesitantly said.

“That wasn’t too hard isn’t it?” You smiled, satisfied.

EHE god is always on my side. ✌︎('ω')✌︎

—

The Blue Lock facility was a massive site. It was bigger than any skyscraper you had ever seen. This could easily be the most impressive building in Japan.

The space was so big that every step you took became a loud echo.

“Hey, big melon woman,” you called out for her.

“P-pardon m-m-me?” Anri is flustered at your bluntness.

“Yes, you.” You replied, disregarding her blushing face, “Where’s Rin?”

“The Blue Lock players are currently undergoing their training as of now, therefore I’ll be bringing you to the surveillance room where Ego is at.”

“And should I know what this Ego thing is?”

“Ego is a man I chose to oversee this Blue Lock project.”

“Oho — so you are the mastermind? That’s pretty impressive.”

That was impressive. You had an inkling an old, wrinkly man was behind Blue Lock but to think it was the big melon woman? That was impressive in your books.

Well, that and coupled with your bias for big boobs. (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾

Leading you through the vast hallway, both of you finally arrived at your destination.

Anri knocked on the door a couple of times.

“Come in,” came a reply.

As soon as the door opened, you were welcomed by the bright screens of many monitors.

Looking at the screens, they were all surveilling all of the Blue Lock players in the facility.

“Ego, this is the idol you told me to bring along.”

“Here, what you are witnessing are all the unpolished diamonds striving to become the best striker the world will soon witness,” Ego stood up, overwhelming your frame even though you weren’t short by any means.

Ego was a tall, lanky man and you cannot help but compare him to the game character called “Slenderman”.

“Make no mistake that we are the next revolution of football,” continued Ego.

You took a step towards the monitors and scrutinised trying to locate Rin.

“Note this, every day, every boy here only thinks about eating, sleeping and football,” continued Ego.

Still unable to find Rin, you pulled Anri and ask her to help you look for him. More pair of eyes will get the job done.

“We have never allowed any outsider to our facility and you are the first. Consider this a blessing that I am a fan of your works and have allowed you to witness this holy sanctuary,” continued Ego.

Where is Rin?!

“There he is!” Anri smiled as she pointed at a monitor to your far left.

Rin was on the field practising with other players.

“Bring me to him,” you interrupted Ego’s nonstop rant.

“I will, but I have a better idea,” he suspiciously said.

—

On the side of the field, Rin took off his football boots.

The nonstop practice and matches had worn out his boots till the original colour was gone.

It was not even a week since he had joined Paris X Gen, and the regiment was even harsher than before.

It was not for nothing though, he could feel his stamina, strength and ability getting better.

Nothing can stop him from achieving greater heights.

Be it the jerk Shidou or Isagi, he will be better.

But he cannot help to still feel that he is lacking somethi-

"RIN!"

The speaker rumbled throughout the entire Blue Lock building.

The big screen flickered and you came to view.

Rin sank back and covered his face; covering the heavy blush that instantly painted his face bright red.

"Sister..." he muttered under his breath, "What are you doing here?"

Embarrassment was currently the biggest understatement as he tried to pretend he did not hear or see anything.

"Hey, isn't that the idol? Am I dreaming right now?" Karasu gasps at your appearance.

"Rin, can you hear me?" You waved your hand trying to get your little brother's attention.

The Ego man told you that you can communicate with Rin through the screen but what a big liar he was!

On the monitor, the figure of Rin showed that he was still minding his own business as if he did not know you are here.

"Your dearly beloved sister is here!" You shouted into the mic again thinking that perhaps it was some faulty audio.

Your voice echoed throughout the building again, everyone in the building had their attention on you.

Uproars could be heard from the players in every room exclaiming at the sight of a popular idol.

You continued calling out for brother. After all, Ego had nicely set up a Zoom call for you, you cannot let this opportunity go to waste.

Why isn't he looking at me? (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

At the corner of the room, away from the screen, Ego held back his laughter and Anri silently stood unable to help you.

—

"Hey, Reo-" Nagi poked Reo, "isn't that the videogame character?"

"She's the person the videogame character was modelled after," Reo replied.

“She’s a real person?” Nagi said in disbelief.

Unlike Nagi, who only knew you from his game, Reo has actually went to your live concerts multiple times.

After all, your concerts were sponsored by Mikage Corporation.

“Even in real life, she look like a video game character.”

“Is it because she look so unreal?” Reo replied.

—

"Meine Leibe, you have come for me," Kaiser stopped his track as soon as he heard your voice.

Pushing Isagi out of his way, he walked towards the screen with both arms out.

“This must be fate.”

☆〜（ゝ。∂）the end (for now) ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

Part 4

<ehe did you feel that second-hand embarrassment? (I hope you did)>

<why does she keep bothering Rin? It’s because she still sees him as the small baby he used to be and can't stop being the protective (overbearing) sister - she doesn’t know that yet cuzzzz she’s dense>

<if you have any suggestions or whomever you think she should be paired with, don't be shy to share your thoughts!>

<Thankiew for reading!!!>

[dangopango00]

COLLEGE AU TIGHNARI ROOMMATE HCS

Tighnari x gn reader

A/N: AUGGGHHHHH IM INSANE AGAIENEBWFWFWWGQ Missing tighnari hours oue so I will write out all the roomie hcs I have to share; per usual its self indulgent as hell

If im being fr this is probably gonna have a part 2 soon i always forget something 😭😭 also my art of him is down there somewhere!!!!

Cw: long af oh my god

more utc

First Meeting:

- You’re a biology major or something similar and just visiting the college you’ll be attending

- You were definitely going to move into the dorms but you heard about and later witnessed some student running around like a maniac looking for a roommate

- You even got emails about it, found flyers on some of the pinboards around the school and even saw ads online (whether that be in some college gc app like zeemee or whatever)

- Eventually you did a bit of basic research on this guy by asking some of your friends or people who know him and you found out his name is Tighnari and he’s double majored in biology and botany

- You let him go on for a few days-a week before you realized he really wasn’t going to find a roommate this late in the game; feeling both pity and admiration for his dedication, you approached him with one of the flyers in your hand as the poor guy took a break from his ad campaign

- “Um… about this flyer…..”

- Tighnari’s ears immediately perked up oh you just made his week, no his month— maybe even his year

- “Yes? Are you interested in moving in? My previous roommate has begun living elsewhere” he explained.

- You’re hesitant, hoping you aren’t making a mistake but eventually steel yourself and figure you only live once right? Plus he could always help with your work! You give him a firm nod.

- Tighnari got a bit overexcited, asking way too many questions at once, “When can you move in? How will you be paying rent? Are you alright with plants? Right, by the way I’m Tighnari. I am a biology and botany major”

- “It’s nice to meet you! I’m (Y/n). I can move in soon and plants are fine! Uh …About rent! I’ll have to find a job but I do have some savings!” you confessed nervously.

- To tell the truth you weren’t planning on getting a job this early on, planning to get the hang of the new workload first but desperate times call for desperate measures (Cute guy in trouble 😤)

- Tighnari however, was unamused. His face completely dropped as if you’d just told him his entire family dropped dead, “You don’t have a source of income already…? Then why would you…. Sigh Nevermind. Its fine. This is fine. I’ll even help you job search”

- “Greeeaaatttt there goes my credit” he thought. And it showed on his face too.

- You just shoot him a silly smile and over the course of the days it took to move you into his apartment you establish some ground rules

Rules:

- He will do the cooking and he’ll cook for you if he’s cooking for himself (if he’s not cooking then you’re on your own)

- In return you do a majority of the cleaning although it’s still pretty split kinda like a 60/40 or 55/45 kind of deal

- You pay the water bill while he pays electricity (you take long showers and his plants and such sometimes require lamps + he just uses a lot of electricity I feel like it’s not usually for him but his plants and work)

- Visitors are pretty much always welcome but you have to let the other know beforehand

- Although the previous rule is true none of those kind of visitors are allowed. Tighnari has sensitive ears he don’t wanna hear that 😭😭

- Be cool and communicate if you have a problem

Apartment:

- SO MANY PLANTS. LIKE THEY ARE TAKING OVER THE APARTMENT . This is a big part of why Tighnari didn’t want to live in the dorms since he wouldn’t be able to have as many plants as he wanted

- It’s a little funny Cyno has really bad allergies so he never lived with him and Collei lived with him for a long time but moved out to move in with Amber (oue shes leaving the nest) (she’s in the apartment right below yours)

- You, as a biology major, on the other hand LOVE the amount of plants in the apartment and Tighnari is ecstatic because he was sooo worried you’d try to make him get rid of them or something; is even more glad that you like them as much as he does

- Also has a big tank of worms where he dumps all the leftovers neither of you eat. He then uses the compost as plant fertilizer

- Despite the amount of things in the apartment its very neat and organized; there are little notebooks next to every living thing to keep track of when and how to feed them

You and Him:

- He has a very old ass car but only uses it for emergencies because he’s not a fan of carbon emissions (usually goes places by public transport, walking or hitching rides) (its the little things that make a big difference ok)

- He works two jobs: One at a plant/flower shop and the other at the school library

- He sometimes brings home new plants because all the plants no one will buy are always given to him by management

- You work one or two jobs likely on campus maybe in the newspaper or the school cafe etc

- Either way whenever you get home tired or after just having a bad day he’d comfort you so much no matter how many days in a row you do the same thing, flopping on the couch and groaning

- When you first did it you two weren’t close but he still stroked your hair and offered you some words of praise but when you two became more comfortable he’d straight up hold you to his chest or let you lay on his lap while stroking your hair if you don’t mind

- “I really need to stop coddling you” he’d say this all the time but never follow through on it and you’d be in his arms as we speak 😅

- He never did stop coddling you. Whenever you watch a show or anime he’s right beside you on the couch reading his book as he glances up every now and again; sometimes gives his two cents on what’s going on in the show (my personal fave is him getting mad at the usopp going merry arc in water 7 bye)

- He has little black rectangular reading glasses idc idgaf he dresses like an old man too with cardigans and sweater vests, maybe overalls if he’s going out to do garden work (he has no sense of fashion we know this)

- If you’re willing to listen he will yap so much about his plants and about wildlife; his heart melts in his chest if you seem genuinely interested and are paying close attention

- You have a snail named Saniel/Saniela. You almost stepped on him and brought him inside, putting him in a little terrarium thing.

- Tighnari hates that thing (he doesn’t; he’s like a grumpy father with a new dog) if it gets out it will eat his plants, so watch it. 😤

- Posts it on his little conservation account (shoutout to the person who wrote that post where he had a conservation insta acc i cant find it) and it overtakes the page gn its his worst nightmare. First it steals his unofficial lover now his followers

- Yall would’ve been burned at the stake in the 1800s you’re always doing your “projects” in the house unless its dangerous (but you’ll still do it outside) like you seeing a girl on Tiktok grow mushrooms on a book so you try it at home…

- He always helps you with anyyyyything. You need help studying for this biology test? So does he, come on in. You need a shoulder to cry on? He has two!! You want a snack but you don’t want to ask too much of him? Don’t be ridiculous he’s making you something as we speak

- He’s actually such a sweetheart he worries about your diet so much; honestly he’s content knowing that you’re under his care bc then he knows you’re eating right

- He wakes up and starts his day INSANELY early and honestly if you manage to wake up before him he’d probably flinch seeing you up LOL he’s so not used to anyone being awake when he is let alone earlier

- Absolute hypocrite too, he won’t let you sleep too late no matter what day it is or whether you have class or not but when he does it he’s just busy smh

- Wouldn’t mind if you treated him the same although if it’s time sensitive he fears he cannot give in to your demands sigh

- He’s a worrywart and a leeeetle nagging but you can tell he cares and you care about him just the same

- You’re always doing whatever you can to take stress off of his shoulders like running errands for him, cooking for him/ordering takeout when he can’t cook, Taking care of his plants for him when he’s busy, etc

- If you work out in the house after moving in then it’s so over for him

- He’s insane. If you’re in the living room he will go “read” his book on the couch but he’s been on the same page the whole time, is he ever gonna flip?

- Not even like explicit workouts like squats or something; just seeing you push yourself to your limit and sweaty and grunting and— where was he again? Ah right page 52.

- It’s so much worse if you ask him to help in some way, he can’t focus at all especially if you ask him to sit on your back while you do pushups

- Also a fan of you being taller than him no matter the method. (Which isn’t hard to achieve bc I hc him like 5’1-5’3) Naturally tall? Great! Wearing platforms? Amazing! Standing on a stool? As long as he doesn’t look down then it’s hot

Funny Bonus from the ari:

Tighnari: do you know anyone who still needs housing arrangements?? pls I’m desperate 😭

Alhaitham: you could take Kaveh

Kaveh: WOWWWW…

[freelancearsonist]

el chico del apartamento 512

➔ Frankie Morales x gn!Reader - 1.6k

➔ There's a rumor going around your building about the resident of apartment 512, and you're eager to investigate.

➔ Rated PG-13 for allusions to sex but otherwise just some plain old fluff and fun. post movie canon wife and kid erasure sorry, takes place in colombia, both reader and frankie speak spanish and everything is translated.

➔ this is my entry for the Selena Drabble Challenge hosted by mi esposa @fhatbhabie <3 sorry i've been sitting on this forever hehe but i hope you enjoy

Frankie barely manages to pull himself out of the slump he’s in for the first year or so after the absolute disaster in the Andes.

He misses his family, misses his friends, misses his crew–his brothers. He tries to convince himself that it’s for the best, that it’s only a matter of time before those assholes who were in cahoots with Lorea come after him–that the people he loves will be safer and happier if he’s not around them when it happens. And most of the time he can block all that sadness and pain out by throwing his whole mind and body into the earnest construction job he picks up in this new town within this new country. But it catches up to him late at night in dreams and quiet whispers of intrusive thoughts; that he’s a coward for abandoning the ones that needed him most, that he could’ve done more to make that damned mission less of a disaster. That he could’ve come out of it rich and happy if he wasn’t such a fuck-up.

He wakes up screaming in the middle of the night, an ache so deep in his chest that it feels like he’s been shot. He clutches at his sternum and tries to catch his breath but he can’t. His body wracks with sobs and he knows he’ll never be okay again.

But somehow, he ends up okay anyway. Somehow, he falls back to sleep just to repeat the cycle the next day.

There’s a rumor going around amongst your neighbors that apartment 512 is haunted.

People hear things–weird things. Screaming, crying, banging–and always at the dead of night. And everyone swears up and down that they’ve never seen the guy who supposedly lives there. The people who say they have seen him get more dramatic with their descriptions every time–toweringly tall, shoulders that could stand up to a wrecking ball, hauntingly sad eyes and gaunt face. It’s like he’s a thing of legend–a story they tell their kids to make sure they behave. “Don’t run in the halls or the guy from apartment 512 will get you.”

You figure he’s probably just some guy who works long hours and likes to watch horror movies to unwind or something–not a monster or a ghost, just misunderstood. You haven’t seen the guy yourself, but you kinda like him anyway. The building’s certainly been a lot quieter since he moved in… well, everywhere except his own apartment, at least. 

You find yourself keeping a more vigilant eye out, alert to any face in the building that doesn’t look familiar. It seems kinda silly to want to see someone you don’t know, but you’re a little nosy and a little more than curious. If there’s some truth to the rumors that have been going around by the people who claim to have seen him, you want to find out for yourself.

It’s a completely ordinary night when you notice an unfamiliar face in the mailroom, and you have to do a double take. This stranger is handsome–tall and dark with shaggy brown hair and an even shaggier patch of stubble across his jaw.

He’s just standing there, staring blankly at a row of mailboxes, looking so… foreboding. You approach slowly, cautiously; part of you thinks you should just walk away and let this man do whatever he’s doing. But there’s a large, louder part of you that approaches with curiosity. There’s just something about him that draws you in, that makes you put on your best smile and ask, “Señor? Necesitas ayuda?” (Do you need help, sir?)

He blinks slowly, heavily, and then dark brown eyes flicker towards you.

“Oh!” He clears his throat and it’s like he’s coming back from an out of body experience–the color returns to his face, his eyes lose that glassy sheen, and his posture loosens a bit. He looks friendly now, sheepish even. He wrings his big hands and shifts on his feet, as if he’s been caught at a vulnerable moment. “Lo siento, estaba en la nube.” (Sorry, I was spacing out.)

“Está bien,” you tell him with your most disarming smile. “Andas buscando algo?” (It’s okay. / Are you looking for something?)

“No, solo estoy recopilando mi correo,” he rumbles before flashing you the most charming smile you’ve ever seen in your life. (No, I’m just getting my mail.)

He fishes through his pockets and finds a small silver key–and then he inserts it into the box labeled “512”.

“Tú vives en el apartamento 512?” There’s a strange air of reverence in your voice despite trying to hide it. This is the guy everyone’s been talking about, and he doesn’t seem nearly as monstrous as everyone tried to make him sound. (You live in apartment 512?)

“Uhhh… sí?” He chuckles and looks over to you, and you can see the way his brow furrows at the look of shocked surprise on your face.

You realize you’re actually gaping open-mouthed at the poor guy, and you snap your mouth closed as soon as you see the little crease between his brows deepen. Not soon enough for it to go unnoticed, though–the corner of his mouth flickers up in a pseudo-smirk, and god he’s handsome.

“No hemos tenido la oportunidad de conocernos aún.” You look up at him and give your best, winning smile as you give him your name. There’s a strange, fluttery feeling in your stomach as his dark eyes meet yours–have you mentioned how handsome he is? (We haven’t had the chance to meet yet.)

“Mucho gusto,” he says with a smile. “Soy Frankie. Supongo que vives en el edificio también?” (Nice to meet you. / I’m Frankie. I’m guessing you live in the building too?)

“Oh, sí,” you say with a slight laugh. “No soy ningún tipo de acosador, vivo en el apartamento 526.” (Oh, yes. / I promise I’m not some kind of creep, I live in apartment 526.)

And then you catch his eyes dragging along your form, not even the least bit subtle, and you try your best to be nonchalant about the way you have to lean against the wall to avoid melting into a puddle on the mailroom floor; especially when you see those full lips of his curve into a smile, and you know he’s liking what he’s seeing.

“Nah, no creo que seas un acosador,” he hums–and there’s that damned smirk again. If you don’t get out of here you’re going to start drooling. (I don’t think you’re a creep.)

He grabs two letters from his mailbox, examines the envelopes, and then unceremoniously dumps them both into the trashcan in the corner with a mumbled, “Malditas estafas por correo.” (Damn junk mail.)

“Eso es lo único que recibo ahora también,” you tell him sympathetically. (That’s all I get anymore too.)

He brushes past you slightly as he moves to the door, and you get a whiff of distinctly woody cologne that makes your heart pick up a beat. You try to act normal and go to open your own mailbox, but he stops in the narrow doorway and leans against the jam to look at you.

“Te volveremos a ver aquí?” (Will I see you around again?)

You think the rumors about him were right, at least a little bit. He’s towering and imposing–he fills the entire doorway with ease. He’s firm and broad and sturdy and big. Maybe he would be intimidating to someone else, but all you can think about is climbing him like a tree.

“Sí. Puedes verme cuando tú quieras.” (You can see me whenever you want to.)

His eyes flicker indecisively for a moment, and then he draws his bottom lip between his teeth. “Qué tal viernes por la noche?” (What about Friday night?)

You try not to focus on how you want him to bite into you like that as you tell him, “Sí, eso sería perfecto.” (Yes, that would be perfect.)

“Perfecto. Te veré luego.” And then he flashes you that damned adorable boyish smile again before he retreats from the mailroom. You think he’s going to be trouble for you. (Perfect. I’ll see you then.)

The monthly building meeting is Saturday morning, and you’re glad to see Frankie’s decided to join in finally. Everyone throws curious looks his way as he walks through the room towards where you’re seated, but no one is curious or brave enough to ask who he is.

“Buenos días, querida,” he murmurs, discreetly ghosting a kiss against your cheek as he drops into the seat beside yours. There’s a hint of amusement in his eyes as they trail over your outfit: the same one you wore to dinner last night, the same one you picked up off his bedroom floor this morning and shoved on hastily to get to this meeting in time. (Good morning, dear.)

Before you get a chance to respond, your neighbor from across the hall plunks down in the seat on your other side.

“Escuchaste ese ruido anoche?” She asks, sounding more amused than annoyed. (Did you hear that noise last night?)

“Qué ruido?” You ask with a raised brow. (What noise?)

She smirks with satisfaction, like she knows something you don’t. And then she looks pointedly between you and Frankie. “Suena como si nuestro fantasma en el apartamento 512 hubiera conseguido un socio para él.” (It sounds like our ghost in apartment 512 got himself a partner.)

You nearly choke on your own tongue, but Frankie just chuckles raspily and wraps an arm around your shoulders. He learned all about the rumors from you last night over dinner, and he thinks they’re hilarious. Besides, they’ll die out soon enough anyway–he’s never slept quite as peacefully as he did last night in your arms–if he doesn’t feed them a little bit. And if feeding the rumors means keeping you moaning and groaning the way he did last night, he can’t say he minds it one bit.

➔ beta: @shakespeareanwannabe; dividers: @saradika-graphics

➔ Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!

➔ Want to support me? Please reblog this fic! It helps boost it in the algorithm and gives it more circulation no matter what your follower count is :) any feedback or comment is always greatly appreciated!!

[imaginechb]

Long Distance w/ Connor Stoll

Aka I'm back on my Connor shit™️ and now you all have to deal with it ❤️

You started dating over the summer, knowing that you'll have to spend the school year apart, but not really caring. You really liked each other, and no one back home could compare with him. No one could relate to you and care for you on the level that he could, no one had those experiences with you.

On the day you have to go back to your hometown, you pack all your things up in your cabin, your siblings either doing the same or keeping each other company.

Connor appears in the doorway and everyone else exchanges looks before clearing out. You turn to him, tears in your eyes that you don't want to let fall, but you can't help it. He opens his arms and you break, falling into him.

You stay there for a bit, holding each other, letting tears fall, before finally letting each other go. He helps you finish packing and walks you out of the cabin.

The rest of the day is spent laying in the strawberry fields in the late summer sun, playing volleyball with friends, and eating meals together rather than at your respective tables.

When it's time to go, he gives you one last emotional hug and a long kiss, before watching you go, a helpless expression on his face as he turns away.

NOW. while you're gone, he sends you letters. Updates on what's been happening with him and the camp, love letters, he writes down playlists for you.

He misses you so bad, he definitely mopes for a while after you leave, until people kinda tell him to get it together.

Sometimes he sends you care packages with things you might need or want; ambrosia in case of monster attacks, your favorite candies, his favorite hoodie, a cd he burned in Chiron's office while he was away

For your birthday (if it's during the school year), he mailed you cupcakes he and Travis made... they weren't exactly edible when they arrived (or when they were made), but it's the thought that counts, right? He also sent you a bracelet he made you (you'd taught him how), another one of his hoodies, and a necklace that you didn't want to know the origins of for legal reasons.

As for you, it had taken a while to adjust back to the mortal world without Connor. Seeing friends at school was nice, but still lonely without him. They were good friends, but they'd never know you and understand you like your friends at camp would. They were mostly just to keep from being alone the rest of the year while waiting for summer's return.

You listen to the playlists and cds he sent you every night to fall asleep, on your walk home from school, when you miss him. You have it memorized from start to finish at this point.

You wear his hoodies to school and to sleep at night to the point where they need washed, which you don't want to do because they smell like him, but it has to be done 😔

Luckily, that's around the time that he sends another one :D

You send him letters and packages of things from the mortal world, candies that he'd never tried, little stickers and pins from places you go, cds, you even return his hoodies to him occasionally.

He comes to stay with you and your family around your winter break (your family was a little unsure about him at first but ended up absolutely adoring him), and you go to camp during spring break so you guys can spend time together.

YOU GUYS PLAY SILLY LITTLE GAMES LIKE TIC TAC TOE THROUGH THE MAIL OMGS

Iris-messaging whenever you can. Sometimes it's hard because he's busy with training and activities at camp, and you've got school and maybe even a job taking up your time, but you manage at least once or twice a week.

Also depending on where you live, time zones may or may not be a thing. If you live on the west coast, there's a three hour time difference between you, which doesn't sound like a lot, but it is. You could be getting home from school when he's eating dinner, and by the time you finish up your homework and dinner, he's at the campfire and going to bed.

But you guys make each other a priority, you wouldn't do anything else

Because at the end of the day, it can be hard, and you might miss each other a lot, but you're also demigods in love. What you have is unshakable, it's not going anywhere, even if you do.

[wooahaes]

right in front of you

pairing: non-idol!jihoon [trsr] x gn!reader

genre: fluff. office worker au.

word count: ~1.0k

warnings: oblivious reader.

daisy's notes: the way id get fired for getting distracted too easily w jihoon around tbh

Jihoon was… Well… Jihoon. The two of you happened to be the youngest of your coworkers, and something about that had turned Park Jihoon from Jihoon, the cute guy at work to Jihoon, partner in crime and lifeline. 

It wasn’t that everyone was rude. You respected your seniors as much as anyone else would, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that some of them were on a power trip at times. Not all of them, thankfully: just one or two members of the staff that liked reminding you that they were in charge, all while treating you like you were some kid they’d found off the street and graciously given this job to (even though you aced the interview with your own skills and your actual manager had never acted this way toward you). Jihoon would text his remarks to you, forcing you to hide smiles whenever you glanced at your phone, or he’d whisper them to you on the elevator ride out of the building, or on those coffee outings that he took you out on when he wasn’t buying you dinner. At some point along the way, your crush on Jihoon went from a surface level thing to something deeper. 

Of course, it probably wasn’t going anywhere. Jihoon was cute and sometimes he flirted with you, but he casually flirted with plenty of people from what you could tell. At least… That’s what it felt like as you stood across the room from him, watching as he charmed a few of your coworkers. He let out a warm laugh, lighting up the room more than the Christmas tree you’d watched Hyunsuk decorate with a few interns. 

“You’re admiring again.”

And of course he had to come up to you, a cup in hand half-filled with fruit punch. Hyunsuk leaned against you, watching as Jihoon dazzled the room. 

“Am not.”

“You’ve been standing here the entire time,” he said. “There’s no shame in it. You should go ahead and ask him out.” 

With a roll of your eyes, you stepped away from him, throwing away your empty paper cup. “Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m going out to get some air.”

Hyunsuk whined at you playfully, but let you go. You escaped out of the office, pressing the button for the elevator as you collected yourself. Maybe you should ask Jihoon out sometime, but… not tonight. Tonight felt far too soon to make your move. Besides.. Did Jihoon even like you like that? He didn’t seem interested in anyone at work…

The elevator doors slid open, and you stepped in. Seconds after you pressed the button for the ground floor, someone rushed onto the elevator, turning around once he was safely inside. The doors slid shut, and you were met with the reflections of yourself and Jihoon in the clean doors.

“I made it,” he said aloud after a moment, teaching up to loosen his tie slightly. He looked at you after a moment, a confident smile on his face. “I thought I’d miss you.”

You blinked at him, brows drawing together. “Huh?”

“I saw you leave,” he said. “I got caught up talking to the interns, but I had hoped the elevator was slow.”

Something about the way he was looking at you with a sense of tenderness in his eyes was enough to make your heart skip a beat. Now you felt silly: Jihoon didn’t look at other people like this. You looked forward again, not hiding your smile as you stepped a little closer to him. 

“Then I guess it’s good that it was.” 

Jihoon’s hand brushed against your own, and you took initiative to take it. “Are you heading home for the holidays?”

“I don’t think so. Are you?”

He nodded. “I’m heading back to Busan,” he said. “My family wanted to see me, and since we have the time off…”

The elevator slowed to a stop, and the doors slid open. The two of you stepped off together, Jihoon’s hand warm in your own. You ran your thumb across the back of his hand, “That sounds fun.”

“You could come with me, you know.” 

“Oh, really?”

He chuckled. “Really. If you don’t want to be alone… Then you can come with me.” He swung your arms a little, smiling. “My family won’t mind.”

As your friend or as your partner? One of those felt a little soon. Then again, you’d already met his family before. His parents came into the city a few weeks ago, and you happened to run into them as he was parting ways with them after a lunch out with them. Jihoon had waved you over and introduced you as a close friend then with this cute smile on his face that honestly reminded you of the one he’s had since the moment he ran onto the elevator and—

Oh my god. Jihoon wasn’t even hiding it. You stopped dead in your tracks, and Jihoon turned to look at you.

“Is something wrong?”

“I’m an idiot.”

Jihoon could only stare at you at first, clearly confused by your confession. “No, you aren’t—”

“No,” you squeezed his hand. “I like you, too.” 

Jihoon relaxed, chuckling to himself. “I know.”

“You knew?!”

“Why do you think I kept asking you out?” 

Holy fuck. How were you so oblivious? Maybe it was because you were too caught up in thinking about your own feelings that you never stopped to consider his. “Jihoon…”

He stepped closer to you, pressing a kiss against your cheek. “There’s a cafe with hot chocolate not far from here,” he said. “I’ll buy you a cup. It’s better than the cheap stuff that Hyunsuk bought.”

You smiled to yourself, averting your gaze. “Okay,” you said softly. “But I’m buying next time.”

Jihoon guided you toward the front doors of the building, his hand securely holding yours. “I’ll hold you to it.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao

[karlachismylife]

Come On Baby, Light My Fire

CW: gn!civilian!reader, alcohol mentioned, toothrotting fluff for the pretty boy Kyle.

(Title from "Light My Fire" by The Doors)

You can't remember last time you had this much fun on Guy Fawkes Night. Some years you didn't have anyone to go with, other times you found yourself too busy with your studies, job or family matters. Something always prevented you from going out for the whole night and enjoying everything the celebration offered.

But not today. Today you are already a part of the loud crowd, packed densely between the food stalls, music and chatter flooding your ears along with hissing and crackling of small firecrackers lit here and there - probably violating some codes and regulations, but you're not worried: a strong hand tugs you away from any possible harm before you even register a potential threat.

The same hand that dragged you out of your apartment tonight and brought you to Alexandra Palace, shushing your protests with a finger against your lips.

Kyle's hand.

Holding yours tightly inside that stupid lovers' mitten you gifted him last Christmas - mostly as a joke, just to poke fun at his tendency to be sugary sweet and corny with his romance sometimes; but you chose the wrong man to joke with. The mitten has been a must on cold weather dates ever since, and the 5th of November is definitely not a hot day - so much not a hot one, that the air above the crowd is filled with steamy breaths along with sparklers' distinct smell and the tanginess of mulled wine poured at every stall.

Kyle has his paper cup, steaming with clove, cinnamon and red wine, in his free hand, as he leads you confidently to a less crowded space - you just have to hurry along, laughing and watching out for your half-eaten toffee apple he insisted on buying for you. There were three chocolate-dipped strawberries too, but you ate them almost immediately, like two rom-com sweethearts, kissing over the sticky, juice-covered stick.

You're both unbearably and disgustingly in love.

A flock of teenagers swarms you, half of them in the V for Vendetta stylized Guy Fawkes masks, and the one in the hat tries to shove a sparkler in your hand, but when you helplessly demonstrate you're fully occupied, sweet kid giggles and stands on their tiptoes to put the little festive stick (not lit, thankfully - you wouldn't put it past kids to do all kinds of stupid things) into Kyle's front jacket pocket.

"Thank you!" You shout over another firecracker blowing up as the teens run off - and only then you realize that you should've probably given them a penny for the guy.

"Let's move, love, fireworks are going off soon, gotta find a good place to watch." Kyle leans to speak directly into your ear and kisses your temple, nuzzling your beanie to push it lower so you won't freeze.

You two stumble out of the main crowd over to a spacious lawn with people standing respectfully sparse, and you finally get a chance to finish your apple, already cold, but still sweet and juicy. Kyle volunteers to lick the stick clean of the caramel and exchanges it for a mulled wine-soaked orange slice that you nibble on gladly. After you both finish your treats, he finally ditches the stupid mitten, leaving it to keep your hand warm, and leaves you for a moment to throw the trash away.

Even while Kyle's wandering somewhere around in search of a trash can, you still feel giddy and stand there with a silly smile stretching your lips, as you watch a big bonfire blaze far, far ahead, where there are too many people to even come close already. It's alright, though, you're not that cold and you can enjoy bonfires later, in your neighbourhood, with less people around. The toffee apple still melts somewhere inside you, as if the heat of the fire reaches you on the damp lawn, and covers all your internal organs in sugary syrup.

It's a good night, a great date and the best way to experience a Guy Fawkes', you're sure.

"Missed me, I hope?" A warm voice and two strong arms envelop you from behind and you laugh, caught in Kyle's hug. He smirks and tries to go in for a sweet smooch, but you have your own idea - and squirm, avoiding his tempting full lips as best as you can. He stops, like a good boy, but looks at you with eyebrows raised high. "Well, that's new. Did I miss a sign that said kisses are off limits or something?"

"No, I want to kiss you," you reassure him, patting his hand - warm even without the mitten, even though he swears each time he'll freeze his fingers off if you don't wear the ting (and you wouldn't want to lose these fingers, would you, angel?). "Just-"

"Well, what are you waiting for, then?"

You'd have to explain, but a loud explosion interrupts you, firework rockets tearing through the dark, gloomy sky and blooming with bright, colourful flowers among the clouds. Both you and Kyle stand there, enchanted with the pretty picture, until you finally admit what you were waiting for.

"For this."

You pull him by the back of his head, cap already moved out of the way, and kiss him. And it feels just as sparkly and beautiful as fireworks.

[pola-rola]

I'm really bored, so there's a little Yuu-sona or something like that. I don’t like to write on the pictures themselves (yeeah, sure), soooo...

A little backstory: like yuu-sona, I would also like to be based on some Disney character, and one day I was just looking around and was like, “hmm, I braid my hair with a polka dot scrunchie, I have black hair…. yeah, definitely Minnie." Yep, that's how it was. Well, besides, it seems to me that the design of the ghost camera fits, and of course friendship with Mickey, he didn’t mention her when he talked about friends, right?)) Besides, Minnie doesn’t belong to any specific cartoon, but this means she can play the role of both a hero and a villain, so getting into the NRC may well be justified, smart;)

So, now just a little randomness about this gal, and, accordingly, me:

• ISFJ (I don’t know what for, but just if you’re interested)

• at first she thought about hiding her real gender, making up something, playing dress-up to become look like a boy. But on the very first day of school, she realized that it's unnecessary, if they didn’t like something, it's their problem

• Purchased the uniform from Sam, because seriously, where else can you find a uniform that is the perfect size? She had to beg for money from the headmage; you want the students to look diligent, so you pay.

•"So, where is my computer? Where is my tablet? Where is my pen? How can I survive without this mmm???)))"

• The first time she was in Twisted Wonderland she constantly had a headache, because in her world she was not used to being in the fresh air so often and moving so often.

• It's raining men!

• "How can boys be so tall at such a young age?! It's crazy!"

• Sometimes throws in phrases and references in her native language, just because she can.

• In fact, she was really surprised that practically (for the most part) no one bullies her for her lack of magic. Like, "if this was my world, I'd be an outcast by now, seriously, guys, aren't you going to make fun of me or what?!"

• Sometimes falls into philosophical thoughts, like “Why is someone constantly trying to prove their strength here… why doesn’t anyone understand that we are all students, which means we are all equal? ​​Especially these idiots from Savanaclaw-” (yup, I really hate these npc guys)

• "Soooo… I found myself in another world, where ghosts, fairies, magic are all real, before that I was riding in a black carriage and woke up in a coffin in a black robe… The mirror said that my soul does not belong anywhere and its there’s nowhere to return…Hmm.. Hmmmm..! Does this mean that in my world I’m already dea- Oh, look, pies are on sale!”

• "Should I start charging money to solve your problems?"

• "Why is it always something? Like it's literally always freaking something........"

• Had to learn to cook to survive. Well, mostly because Grim whines that he can’t live on just scrambled eggs and burnt fried potatoes lol.

• Would like to join the Mountain Lovers' Club, but remembered how in her world she constantly excused herself from trips to the mountains or family overnight stays in tents by the lake. Nah..

• She likes this interesting world, but still at night she cries into her pillow because she misses his mom so much :(

• “Actually, in my world, I had already graduated from college, received a diploma and was just looking for a job. And you say that I need to start studying again from the first year?!”

• haha silly mirror, a test on the internet told me that I should go to Scarabia 💅

• REALLY wants to know what's going on in her world while she's here. Literally thinks about this almost every day

• "Lol guys, did you know that your Great Seven are actually bad guys? No, no, nothing, just breaking the fourth wall"

If it weren't for Grim, she probably would have remained a janitor forever. Like, seriously, have you seen how often mc speaks compared to other students? Totally matches my social awkwardness.

•Really very interested in this world, its history and especially other schools. Like, really, if all this turns out to be a dream and she'll return to her gray world of high-rise buildings, then at least she'll have something to remember.

• "They call me just "Pola" for a reason. And the reason is... Says her full name, which to a non-native speaker sounds like a spell to summon a demon.

•"Hey guys, look what I found. A bowling ball." This is Chenya's head.

•"Deuce is asking for my opinion and does not forget about my presence and is happy when I cheer for him #BFF🥺" (we have the same birthday by the way)

•"Ehehee Pola Trappola ehuehe.......… Just kidding, jeez!"

Phew, that was silly, but I hope you found it interesting haha