#no shade i just think about it all the time

[unoislazy]

For Me?

Vi x Piltover! Reader

Vi deserves the world and a partner that cares about her. Being from Zaun comes with its insecurities when being with someone from Piltover. Luckily, you know exactly how to counter them.

A/N: You guys wont have to worry about that much angst from me for a while, I need to cope from act 3 by giving Vi the best life possible and all the fluff imaginable because oh my god??

There were times when you’d think back to when and how you and your girlfriend met for the first time. Such a chance of it happening was very slim given you two belonged to two different cities, you Piltover, her Zaun. You never thought the girl who rammed into you after fleeing from an explosion from an unauthorized lab would one day come back into your life. 

The story of your reunion however was quite the convoluted one. Once again, a meeting set by nothing but pure fate and chance. 

You weren’t supposed to be at Zaun at the time. In fact, you weren’t supposed to be in Zaun at all. You went on your own, against your family's wishes, for the sake of immersing yourself in a culture that is not your own. You were raised to believe that the people of the undercity were monsters, the filth under Piltover's feet, nothing more than animals. It never felt right to you, there had to be more to it. After all, they were people too.

So, you went to see for yourself how awful these “animals” really were. 

You knew better than to walk in expecting everything to be rainbows and unicorns, but you refused to let go of your optimism as you traveled around the labyrinth like maze of streets and alleyways. 

It wasn’t until the smell of a peculiar type of food filled your senses. 

You didn’t know what it was, it was very different from anything you had ever tried before, so you decided to check it out.  

Once there, you were greeted by a fairly jolly fish-like man with a large smile. He laughed heartily, gesturing for you to take a seat and gave you a list of things to choose from. There were so many options, you had no idea where to start, and it wasn’t until you heard someone else set directly beside you did you finally have an idea. 

You looked to your left and were quickly met with a head of bright pink hair. Quite a unique shade which you could’ve sworn you’d seen before, but you brushed the thought off. There were probably plenty of people with the same hair color, besides if there’s one thing you knew not to do in Zaun, it was to stare. 

You heard one of them, a woman, order something specific off of the fish man’s list, whom she referred to as Jericho. He happily took her order before turning to her friend who denied wanting anything, and then turning back to you. 

“I’ll have the same.” You said with a polite smile. Jericho nodded before turning around and getting right to work. As you waited, you couldn’t help but sneak a glance at the girl next to you once again, there was something familiar about her despite her back being turned to you for the most part. 

That was until her friend noticed you staring and began to pull her hood over her eyes which grabbed the pink haired girl's attention. She quickly turned around to face you with an angered look on her face, clearly ready to fight if need be.

“Can I help y-“ She began, but before she could finish it finally clicked with you. 

“You’re the girl.” You whispered, having not realized that maybe saying that to a girl who looked, for lack of a better phrase, like she could rock your shit, probably was not a good idea.

“I’m sorry?” She asked, clearly confused, but still clearly not happy about your interruption.

“That girl, from the explosion, that was you.” 

Her reaction to your realization was less than friendly, and you couldn’t blame her. You hadn’t known at the time but she had just gotten out of jail for that same crime. She didn’t know who you were, she didn’t know what you wanted, and she didn’t want to involve herself with more pilties than she needed. 

And yet despite everything, here she was, now living with you on her days when she wasn’t in Zaun. You had quite the rocky start in the beginning but you became useful to her quest for her sister, and the more time you spent with her, the closer you two got. At first she was a bit standoffish, not believing someone from topside was capable of showing so much empathy, if any. Yet somehow you proved her wrong. You chipped away at that stone wall she built around her heart all those years away in prison and became one of the few things she coveted most. 

You two didn’t live together all the time, but your house was always open to her as you had now managed to move away from your parents. You knew Vi could never stay topside for too long, and you’d never ask her to do such. So there were a few days here and there where she would stay with you, then go back to the undercity to continue to help out, then come back up with you.

Now today was the day for Vi to come back, so you decided to surprise her to the best of your ability with the dish she got from Jericho the day you two met once again. It was quite a feat that required you to go to the undercity a fair amount of times to visit Jericho and ask for help. Luckily the sweet man was more than happy to let you in on a few of his trade secrets for the sake of a thoughtful gift. 

You weren’t the biggest fan of this type of food, you’ve tried it on more than one occasion, but it very clearly wasn’t for you. 

But it was what Vi liked so that was enough. 

As you continued to cook, you heard your door open, without even needing to look you knew it was your partner walking through the door.

“Welcome back.” You greeted warmly. 

Just then, You felt two hands wriggle around your waist before the weight of her head rested on your shoulder. She tilted her head slightly, her face now moving towards your neck, enough for you to feel the light feeling of her breath wafting over your neck. 

You ignored the feeling to the best of your ability but you couldn’t ignore the small smile that made its way to your face, this of course didn’t go unnoticed by Vi as she mumbled against your neck, 

“What are you making?” She asked, pressing her body a bit more into yours. She had a tendency to be clingy after being away for long periods of time, which you didn’t mind. 

“Something new. Just got the recipe, I think you’ll like it.” You said with a smile, which earned a short chuckle from your girlfriend who turned to begin peppering light kisses against your neck.

“If it’s made by you Sunshine, of course I will.” She said sweetly, despite the fact she was trying to ‘discreetly’ distract you. It wasn’t actually very discreet but she thought it was and you weren’t going to correct her.

“It smells familiar.” She said quietly after pausing for a moment to look back over your shoulder.

“Means I’m doing something right then.” You said happily, glad that it was going well. Her confirmation that she at the very least was beginning to recognize it was enough to motivate you to continue. However despite your motivation it was clear your girlfriend still had other plans in mind. 

Her hands slowly began to move their way up from your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as her face remained by your neck. 

“Can I at least finish the food first?” You asked with a laugh as your left hand went up to lightly brush against Vi’s face, acknowledging what she was trying to do. 

She once again mumbled quietly against you before finally pulling away. 

“Fine.” She said with an overly dramatic sigh before continuing, 

“You’re no fun.” She teased as her hands slowly, reluctantly, left your sides as she moved to the counter next to the stove you were using to cook. She leaned the back of her waist against it, her arms crossed in front of her chest, as she looked at you with a look you could only describe as a lighthearted pout.

“Save that for later you just got back. You have to eat first.” You said in a somewhat stern manner, not looking away from the food cooking in front of you. 

“Who says I can’t have a bit of dessert first?” 

“Vi!” You exclaimed as you walked her softly with a cloth that you had placed by the stove. She laughed, a full genuine laugh, which she felt like she could only do near you. You were the only one to really bring it out of her at this point. 

“Just… go sit down, the food is almost done.” You instructed, turning back to the food as she chuckled once again before walking back towards you. Her hand made its way back to your waist once again as she leaned towards your ear,

“Can’t wait.” She whispered cheekily before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek and walking towards the dining room. 

You, being from a family who had lived in Piltover for quite some time, were able to afford a house with multiple furnished rooms with ease. It always threw Vi off just the slightest bit, the difference in what the two of you grew up with. It got to her more than she’d like to admit. A few times she believed herself to be holding you back, you came from a life of glittering buildings, and she came from nothing but metal scraps. 

You were so different and yet you always managed to remind her that it didn’t matter. She loved you for you and you loved her for her, wherever you came from had no effect on that.

Vi sat down in one of the few chairs in your dining room, looking around at the paintings that littered the walls, her previous thoughts remaining on her mind before she was interrupted by a plate of food entering her view and landing in front of her.

“Tada!” You exclaimed into the silent room, the only other sound being that of the plate lightly hitting the table. Vi sat in silence for a moment as she looked down at the food before her, it took her a moment before she recognized it.

“Wait. Did you-“ She began to ask.

“Find the recipe to your favorite dish from your favorite food stand? Maybe.” You responded with a proud smile as you sat down in the chair next to her, eager to have her try it. 

“How did you get the stuff for it?”

“Well, I visited a friend.” You said with a shrug. Vi looked towards you, her eyes wide with shock. As each moment passed she realized just how much effort went into this one dish.

“You hate this kind of stuff, why would you-“

“Cause I know you like it and I wanted to make it for you.” You said simply as you placed your hand atop hers.

Suddenly Vi couldn’t think of a response. Her sudden silence worried you almost, was she mad? Was she upset at you? 

You then looked at her eyes and watched as they softened, the powder blue irises glistened as water lightly began to form in them.

“Holy shit.” She said quietly, entirely taken aback as she sat back in her chair. For someone with such a tough exterior you could see the walls slightly begin to crack as she looked down at the food before her. It meant more than the world to her that you had put so much effort into something she liked, for her, and for no other reason. 

Just because you cared.

It had been a long time since Vi had been truly reminded she was loved. Just having such a simple yet, such a powerful reminder in the middle of nowhere by the one person she truly loved was almost disorienting. You went out of your way to get ingredients you couldn't get easily in Piltover, a recipe you had to go to a specific stand for, her favorite stand no less, and then put it all together?

“Vi?” You asked quietly, your other hand going up the cup to her face so she would look at you a bit more as you looked at her with a bit of concern. You didn’t expect such an emotional reaction from your gesture that you were worried you had done something wrong.

“Are you o-”

Before you could finish your question, Vi had turned to you quickly and engulfed you in a hug. This took you completely by surprise. In the time that you and Vi had been together, more often than not when it came to specifically hugging, you were the one to initiate. She just never seemed like the hugging type unless it was an occasion where she truly meant it.

And in this case, she did. 

“Thank you, Sunshine.” She said quietly as she squeezed just a bit tighter. Your hands rested against her back as you smiled, feeling as if you had done a job well done even without her trying her dish. You knew Vi had been through a lot over the years and while you didn’t know the full extent of everything just yet, you knew you could at least try to offer her some sort of comfort. So that’s what you strived for and it seems like that's what you succeeded to do. 

Once she pulled back from the hug, you reached up to wipe her tears, the smile still present on your face as you spoke. 

“Well, are you gonna try it?” You asked, to which she smiled and let out a slight chuckle. She then eagerly turned back around towards her plate and dug in as she usually did in the undercity. She knew you didn’t care about the messy nature that often came with Zaun cuisine, even if it wasn’t what you were raised on, it meant a lot to her that you at least tried it out. With one taste she immediately released a sound of pure bliss and dove back in for more.

You laughed, knowing that was Vi’s way of saying you had done a perfect job, even if she didn’t pause from her eating to just tell you so herself. 

[pedroscurls]

just the tip (one-shot)

summary: you're ready to take the next step with logan, but you're still a bit nervous. pairing: old man!logan x fem!reader content warnings: explicit smut (18+, mdni), inexperienced reader, missionary, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, logan can't control himself, implied age gap (but no mention of age), no use of y/n. word count: 3k a/n: ok, this is yet another one-shot of complete old man logan filth. it never really is just the tip, is it? 🤭 i'm just so obsessed with logan and can't figure out which version of him i want to write on most days lol. honestly, idk where this idea originated from, but here we are... i just have a fantasy of old man logan showing me the ropes ya know... anyway, hope you enjoy! 🙂‍↕️

Logan doesn’t know what he did in this life to ever deserve you. Someone so sweet, so patient, so kind, so pure. He doesn’t even know why someone like you would ever be interested in someone like him. He knows he’s no longer in his prime – his hair now a gray shade, beard overgrown with more gray than brown, crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, wrinkles around his face. 

And you… You’re obviously much younger than him – everyone is much younger than him – but your innocence and your purity makes you seem so much younger than you really are, despite being very mature for your age. You smile so sweetly at him, gaze at him with such kind eyes that he doesn’t ever feel deserving of you. 

But you had approached him first. All shy and unlike the rest of the girls in your group the night that you both met. You seemed so out of place, like maybe you had just been dragged along for the night because you were quiet, reserved, even when you had three drinks and one shot of tequila already. 

The rest of your group was loud, outfits way too revealing that everyone had eyes on them. They craved and yearned for the attention, but you were fine with being in the background. This wasn’t usually how you spent most Friday nights, but your friends had convinced you and you owed one of them a favor. 

You weren’t the prettiest in the group and you certainly never got the attention of anyone else when you were with them, but you didn’t mind. Your friends never made you feel less than you were, always the ones to reassure you and give you the confidence that you lacked. 

And that night was no different. They had given you the confidence to approach Logan who was keen on spending just a couple of hours drinking his problems and nightmares away. Alone. 

But when you sat next to him and flashed him that sweet smile paired with those kind eyes, Logan knew he wouldn’t have the strength to turn away from you. He tried to act like he wasn’t interested, tried to act like talking to you was an inconvenience, but it never deterred you. Instead, you remained seated next to him all throughout the night even well past the time the bar was closing. 

“Your friends left you,” Logan told you. 

“That usually is the plan,” you admitted. 

His head tilted. “The plan is to go home with a stranger? Sounds dangerous if you ask me, bub.”

“I don’t usually do this.” 

“Do what?” 

“Go home with a stranger.” 

“Ain’t going home with me,” Logan whispered. “I don’t do this either. Too old for this, actually.”

Logan didn’t miss the way your face fell at his words. All night, he kept asking himself why did you pick him? What was so special about him that you decided to spend the rest of your night talking to him? 

“If I did invite you back to my apartment, would you say yes?” You asked quietly, your kind eyes now filled with hope. 

“Don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. 

You didn’t push him, wanted to respect his decision and his boundaries. So instead, you grabbed a napkin off the bar counter and a sharpie before writing your name and phone number. “Call me?”

“Sure,” Logan lied, staring down at the napkin. 

Once outside the bar, you pulled out your phone. “Well, I better call a Lyft now. It was really great talking with you, Logan.” 

“Let me take you home at least,” he muttered. 

“Oh, you don’t have to.” 

“I’m a driver,” he chuckled lowly. “If you called a Lyft, there’s a high chance that it’d be me who takes you home anyway.” 

“Okay,” you smiled up at him and Logan felt his heart race even faster at the sight. 

And since then, you and Logan had developed a friendship that soon turned physical. Heavy make out sessions and lingering touches, but you hadn’t taken that extra step, hadn’t gone the full distance. 

–

“I think I’m ready,” you tell him, hands resting on his shoulders as you sit on his lap. 

“For?” Logan asks, head tilting as his strong hands rest on your upper thighs. 

“To have sex with you.” 

Logan clears his throat, can feel his manhood stir beneath his pants. He stares into your eyes, tries to search for any uncertainty but you look determined. You look like you’ve made up your mind. 

“Sweetheart,” he sighs. “You know I’m fine with what we’ve been doing. I don’t want to push you or make you feel like you need to do this for me. We’ll go at your pace.”

“I trust you,” you admit quietly. “I’m not… experienced like other women my age should be, but–”

“Inexperienced or not, I don’t care about that.” Logan lifts you off his lap and sets you on the couch instead, his hands immediately moving to cover the center of his pants. “We don’t have to–”

“I want this, Logan. I want you. All of you.” You bite your lower lip and move to settle on your knees on the couch, staring up at him. “I’m not a virgin, but I haven’t been with many men before.” 

Logan’s eyes narrow at you. “Oh, that so?” He isn’t sure why he feels jealous at your words, imagining other men who've had you in their bed. He’s had a taste of you, knows exactly what to do to get you to come and you’ve done the same to him. And yet, he hasn’t had you in a way these other men have. 

You nod at him, so innocent and pure written on your features. He can sense your nervousness, but he can also smell your arousal. It hits his senses all at once and his gaze darkens. “I just don’t want to disappoint you.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Logan smirks. “I’ve seen the way you suck my cock,” he growls. “You ain’t gonna disappoint me.” 

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, feel the wetness begin to settle between your legs, dampening your panties at his words. You loved when he would talk dirty to you; it only excited you even more. “Y– You like that, huh?” 

Logan nods and stands up from the couch, lifting you into his arms without issue. “Of course,” he whispers, taking you to his bedroom as he walks into the room with you in his arms. “I love the fact that you like doing it too.” 

You nod in agreement. “I do love it.” 

Logan grins and sets you on his bed, watching as you prop yourself on your hands with your lower lip pulled between your teeth. And he wants so badly to respond and tell you that he loves you, but he doesn’t. Everyone that he’s ever loved was taken from him, so he doesn’t say anything. 

“I know, you’re like a crazed animal.” Logan chuckles. 

You pout up in his direction and gently reach out to tug on the waistband of his pants, pulling him to stand between your legs as your free hand moves to massage his crotch. 

“See what I mean?” He groans, hardening even further with every graze of your hand. Logan gently takes your hand from him and shakes his head, lifting you further up the bed as he climbs atop of you. “You sure about this?” 

You nod and move your hands to rest on his chest, feeling the muscle flex beneath your fingertips. “Yes,” you say almost breathlessly. “I’m just a bit nervous.” 

Logan’s gaze softens and he looks down at you. You had broken through his hard exterior, had nestled your way into his heart, and even Charles had taken notice. You make him feel young again, like not all of the world’s responsibilities are weighing heavy on his shoulders. With you, he feels free, at peace. You manage to quiet all of the voices in his head, but he’d never tell you that. 

“We’ll go at your pace,” he whispers, moving his hand down your side. 

“I’m just nervous I won’t be able to take all of you,” you admit. 

Logan chuckles and leans back on his knees to gently tug down your shorts and panties. He tosses it carelessly to the side and instantly, he smells your arousal hit his senses. He looks down at your lower half, sex glistening with your wetness. “It’ll fit,” he says lowly, hands moving up your legs. “We’ll make sure it does.” 

“Maybe just start with the tip?” you ask, grabbing the ends of your oversized t-shirt above your head. You lie back down, hair splaying on his pillows as your body is now fully exposed and on full display for him.

Logan nods, pulling off his white tank-top over his head. He stands up momentarily to push down his pants, his manhood now standing at attention and leaking at the tip. He reaches down and strokes himself once, twice, before he settles himself between your legs. 

“Gonna get you ready for me first,” Logan whispers, his large hand splaying over your abdomen as it slides down towards where you need him the most. He hovers above you, lips resting just near your ear as he slowly slides his middle finger past your folds. It slides in with ease, your slickness allowing for easy entry. Logan gently nips on your earlobe, grunting in your ear as you let out a quiet whimper at the intrusion. 

“Logan,” you moan quietly, moving a hand to rest on his large bicep, gripping it tightly. This isn’t the first time Logan’s fingered you, but the anticipation of what’s to come has you clenching around his digit unintentionally. 

“Already so wet f’me,” he whispers into your ear, slowly adding another digit into your depths. Logan ruts against the mattress, trying to find his own relief as he slowly begins to pump his fingers in and out of you. 

You turn your head and bury your face against the crook of his neck, teeth grazing against his skin. “Logan,” you whimper, gasping quietly as you feel another digit enter you. 

“That’s three already, sweetheart,” Logan growls as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. When he feels your teeth gently bite down on his neck, he groans, thrusting his three digits inside of you as he begins to curl his fingers within your depths. “Come f’me, honey.”

“Logan, I–” you shut your eyes tightly and arch your back, your breasts pushing against his chest. Your walls tighten even further around his digits, your hips rolling upwards as you ride out your high. 

Logan smirks and pulls back slowly, looking down at you as your chest heaves up and down. He pulls his fingers from you and looks down at it, his digits glistening with your arousal. He brings it to his lips and sucks your arousal from his fingers, eyes staring into your own once your eyes open. “Ready?” 

You nod, biting your lower lip in anticipation. “Just the tip, okay?”

“Sure, sweetheart.” Logan says, leaning back on his knees as he reaches down to grasp onto the base of his manhood. He leans in closer, running his tip along the length of your sex, applying pressure to your bundle of nerves.

You look down between your legs and bite your lower lip. The sight of him holding onto the base of his length as he rubs his tip up and down the length of your sex, until his tip catches against your opening. “Logan…” you whimper, reaching out for him but he just uses his free hand to grab a hold of your wrists, pinning them above your head. 

Slowly, Logan pushes his tip into you, feeling your tight walls immediately surround him. He groans and then pulls back, running his tip once more along you. Logan’s grip around your wrists tighten, pressing them further into the mattress as he pushes his tip – and only his tip – inside of your depths. Logan looks down and slowly pushes further into you, hearing you quietly gasp as a few more inches past his tip enter you.

“Logan, wait, baby–” 

Logan growls and then suddenly slams all the way into you in one stroke. The warmth of your walls surround him, so tight and so wet as his lower half presses firmly against yours. “Fuck,” he groans, his now free hand coming up to rest on your cheek. 

You feel your toes curl at the intrusion – nothing Logan did would have ever prepared you for the size of him. You can feel every inch and vein of his length inside of you, throbbing and stretching you. It’s so much, all at once, that when he pulls back only to thrust back in all the way, it causes your eyes to flutter. 

“I said–” you moan. “Start with the tip…”

“Couldn’t help myself,” he groans, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. “You feel so good around me, sweetheart.” Logan feels your legs wrap around his waist, your ankles locking together at his lower back. 

You nod in agreement, tears stinging your eyes. Logan’s so deep and it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. You keep your eyes open and trained on him. He hadn’t removed his glasses, now staring at you from the top of his glasses. You try to wiggle your hands free, but Logan’s grip just tightens even further. 

“Logan, oh god,” you moan, his slow thrusts now picking up speed. He pulls out to his tip and then slams back into you, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. His hand moves from your cheek to grip your hip, fingertips digging into the meat of your flesh. 

He knows that he probably won’t last any longer, the feeling of your tight walls gripping him, the way he’s easily sliding in and out of your depths due to how wet you are for him. It’s in moments like this where he doesn’t know why you still stick around, why you still continue to choose him. Logan releases your hands and grips your hips in both hands, pulling back to look down at you. Logan continues to thrust into you, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echo off the walls of his room. 

Your hands immediately move to grip his sheets and he can feel your walls begin to tremble once more, can feel you begin to tighten around his length. Logan groans, eyes moving along your frame, his gaze lingering at the sight of your breasts bouncing with each sharp thrust he delivers. He knows his grip around your hips will leave marks and the thought of you walking around, going about your day with marks of him suddenly makes him feel territorial, suddenly has this desire to make everyone know that you’re his. 

“Logan, I’m gonna–” 

“Yeah, baby,” he groans. “I know, come f’me.” 

And just on cue, your legs tighten even further around his waist as your walls tighten around his length. He can feel you shaking, can feel just a rush of wetness. “Logan!” 

He groans. He’d never get tired of hearing his name escape your lips at the height of pleasure. Logan’s hips stutter, feeling a tightness build in the pit of his stomach as he chases his own release. He releases your hips to rest his hands on the mattress near your head, slamming his hips into yours – once, twice, three times before he releases inside of you, his seed filling you. He should have asked first, should have thought about using a condom, but when he pulls out of you and watches his seed trickle out of you, the guilt disappears immediately. 

You stare up at him and then follow his gaze down between your legs, watching his spend come out of you and drop down onto his mattress, staining his sheets. “You’ll have to wash these now,” you tease, your voice almost breathless. 

“Worth it,” he whispers, leaning down and gently pecking your lips. 

“Was that– Was I okay?” you ask quietly, your hands slowly moving to his hair. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Logan says softly. “We’re gonna be doing more of that.”

 An excitement flickers in your eyes and you grin, leaning up on your elbows to gently capture his lips with your own. “And just so we’re clear… I don’t mind that you came inside.” 

Logan pulls back and looks down at you. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you nod. “I like knowing that I can still feel you.” 

Logan smirks and he can feel himself slowly begin to get hard again. His regenerative powers aren’t all that quick anymore, so he’s surprised that his manhood is stirring awake, yearning for you yet again. 

“Next time we do this,” you begin quietly. “Can I ride you?” 

Logan groans as he moves his hips, his tip slowly brushing against you. He slowly lies on his back and reaches down to stroke himself, eyes running across your frame. “Come on, then.” 

“Wait,” you bite your lower lip. “You’re– How?” 

“You make it easy,” he winks, reaching out to gently tap your hip. “Take what you need, sweetheart.”

You move to straddle his hips and Logan looks down to see his release trickle out of you, dripping onto the hair at his base. He stares up at you, feeling you slide down his length and he watches you tilt your head back, a moan escaping your lips. Logan bites his lower lip, hands moving to your hips as he gazes up at you. Logan knows that you’re way out of his league, that you deserve to be with someone closer to your age, but fuck – he’s going to keep you for as long as you allow. 

Because Logan knows that he’s so deep in his feelings for you that he won’t ever choose to let you go. 

And now, as you’re slowly rocking your hips, he’s going to keep this image in his mind until the day he dies. 

His girl. His.

[hrrtshape]

THINGS TO REMEMBER WHEN YOU'RE DOUBTING SHIFTING a.k.a DIVING INTO THE CONCEPT OF THE SOUL ✶

the idea of souls is the most beautiful, most romantic thing ever. because...who are we really? we’re not just flesh and bone, ticking along. we’re something more.

your soul is the eternal essence of you—your consciousness, your thoughts, your love, your dreams. it’s the part of you that has existed forever and will continue long after this one human life is done. the body? a temporary rental. the soul? that's the real home.

imagine this: your soul is like a little spark of the universe, a fragment of the stars, wandering through realities to experience everything it can. each life, each timeline, each moment is like flipping to a new page in a book. it’s all about the story, and the story is infinite.

𖥻  THE ETERNAL YOU. who you are right now? that’s just one chapter. your soul has seen other worlds, other lives, other possibilities. every little thing you feel, the deja vu, the dreams that feel too real, the magnetic pull toward certain initiatives, periods of time, objects—that’s your soul saying, “hey, remember when we were here before ?”

𖥻  SOULS DON’T AGE. that’s the gag. you might be whatever age you are right now here and now, but your soul? it's ancient. timeless. wise beyond the stars. think about how you sometimes just know things, or you feel a deep connection to places, people, or ideas. that’s your soul’s memory peeking through.

𖥻  THE COSMIC GAME. your soul came here to play. to love, cry, mess up, and learn. it’s all about experience—because even the messy parts, the heartbreak and chaos? they add flavour to the story. your soul isn’t scared of pain; it’s curious. it’s here to gather every emotion, every shade of existence.

𖥻  SOUL CONNECTIONS. you know those people you meet and immediately click with, like you’ve known them forever? or the places that feel like home even if you’ve never been there? that’s soul recognition. your soul is like, “hey, I know you ! we’ve danced this dance before.” example of this in my life is the fact that i genuinely believe i'm connected with the city of paris—i can't begin to describe the depression i have whenever i leave it or the ecstasy that runs through my brain every second i'm there. coincidence`? i think not.

𖥻  THE UNIVERSE IS YOUR CANVAS. your soul doesn’t just exist in this one little reality. oh no. it's out there painting across dimensions, skipping through timelines, creating infinite versions of itself. and every version? it’s still YOU. all of them are threads in the tapestry of your existence.

𖥻  SOULS ARE STARDUST. LITERALLY. you’re made of the same stuff as the stars. so, if you’ve ever stared at the night sky and felt small, flip that thought. you’re not small—you’re connected. you’re the universe looking back at itself. you’re a whole galaxy in human form.

𖥻  LOVE IS THE LANGUAGE OF SOULS. not just romantic love (though, yes, swoon), but the love you feel for life, art, music, laughter, sunsets, the way your favourite book smells. that’s your soul’s way of speaking. every time you feel love, you’re feeding your soul.

𖥻  DEATH ISN’T THE END. it’s just the soul saying, “okay, cool chapter. time for the next one.” it’s moving forward, exploring, learning, always expanding. the end of this life is just the beginning of another adventure.

𖥻  YOU’RE NOT YOUR BODY. your body is stunning and unique and so, so special. but it’s not YOU. the real you is the consciousness inside, the little light piloting this human-shaped vessel. your soul chose this body, this life, this moment for a reason.

𖥻  EVERYTHING IS VIBRATION. your soul is energy. and energy? it doesn’t die. it flows, shifts, and transforms. when you feel aligned, like you’re glowing or vibrating with joy—that’s your soul saying, “YES, this is it, this is what i’m here for.”

so when you feel stuck or small, remember this: you are a spark of eternity wrapped up in human skin. you are light, love, and infinite potential. your soul is dancing through this reality, and every breath, every moment is a gift it chose to experience.

you’re a freaking miracle. and everything is truly possible.

[meelusinee]

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT ✦ M.R x READER

in which mattheo is absolutely in love with you before you two even talk for the first time

pairing: lovesick!mattheo riddle x reader

tags: lovesick mattheo, fem reader, so tamino inspired

word count: 3.7k

warnings: just fluff again! along with easily flustered mattheo (+ teasing theo)

author's note: my second post!! i made a small playlist of tamino songs i used for mattheo in this. if you haven’t, please go listen to him (his music is so good). i based this off a small part of my first fic where theo sang to reader. as always, while english is my first (and only) language, that does not mean i claim it in any way shape or form (aka this will probably suck ass)

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT | M.R x READER

Mattheo didn’t know much about love. 

Between being raised by a dictator and his craziest follower, he already didn’t have a very good start. Especially whenever he would get in trouble, the Cruciatus Curse was definitely no joke. Not to mention everyone pestering him about the legacy he led. News flash to the Gryffindors who would try to pick on him, he found it quite obvious that he was Voldemort’s son.

Suffice to say that he didn’t know much about love. He never had a true showcase of it, never had an example of it to compare to anything. The closest he ever had being another stunted teenager by the name of Theodore that considered him his brother, but even then there was still distance.

That was until he met you.

You, the most beautiful person he had ever met in his entire existence on this Earth. Anything he  lol looked at on you he would find absolutely perfect, from the color of your eyes to the way your hair bounced in the sunlight.

That alone made it hard to approach you. Your nice demeanor seemed to make it even harder.

So, he settled with admiring from afar. Mattheo knew your schedule, the classes that you would take and every time that it varied. He would subtly watch you in classes, hang around the same areas you did during your break periods, or even where you went for fun. And, to the best of his ability, he tried to avoid things that looked bad. No more fights or cursing, not unless he was truly provoked.

His mind also got its grubby hands on the idea of a journal. A place he could write about you freely, one he charmed so only he could read it. Entries, song ideas, anything he could think of. You made him an artist, you as his perfect muse.

And it all got even better when you two finally met.

You had just walked down to the courtyard, Mary Janes clacking along the rocks as you made your way over to a small pillar.

Recently, you noticed someone sitting by the pillars a lot more than usual. He was tall, his face usually covered by his brown curls as he wrote inna small journal he always carried with him. Said tall man with a face covered by his brown curls was your current potions partner, you had both been assigned to create a Liquid Luck potion.

“Hello?” you called out gently. face tilted down just a bit as you looked down at him. His eyes locked with yours when he looked up, the most beautiful shade of molten honey you had ever seen meeting your eyes. “Hi there, stranger.”

“Hello?” he whispered back at you, eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. His face looked rather cute when it was all scrunched up like that, a light blush covering his cheeks.

“I’m your Potions partner.” you said with a smile, flattening your skirt before moving to sit down next to him. “For the Liquid Luck project.”

“Oh,” he whispered, nodding as he closed his journal. It had a rather pretty leather cover, the pages aged and covered in ink from what you could tell. “Yeah, I remember. Y/N, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, nodding. “And you’re Mattheo.”

“Yes I am.” he said, a soft smile coming on his face as he heard that. He looked at you with something special in his eyes, eyes that carved themselves deep into your soul with the most intricate patterns you could think of.

The trance both of you seemed to be stuck in was broken when he cleared his throat, fingers tapping on his journal. “Did you have any ideas for the project?”

“Oh,” you whispered, nodding. “Yes, yes I do. I was thinking that we head to the library and research different potion methods and whatnot. Based on Slughorn’s instructions, I’m assuming that the instructions in the books won’t help much.”

“You’re a genius.” he whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear.

“What was that?” you asked him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat as he began to sit up. “Do you want to go now?”

Mattheo thought that he was dreaming, if he was being honest.

The girl of his dreams, the girl that he had wrote almost obsessively day and night about for almost six years, that same girl was currently sitting across from him. Laughing.

“You’re ridiculous,” she smiled at his joke, her voice sweet like a piece of cotton candy melting on your tongue. He didn’t even remember what he had joked about at this point, his mind turning to mush the moment he heard that sound pass your lips.

Those lips that haunted his dreams every single night, the image of them so plush and pure he wanted to worship them like one would a holy angel. They looked absolutely perfect.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling softly as he rested his chin on his hand. He probably looked like a lovesick puppy, but he didn’t mind. 

“I found something really interesting in this book  by the way,” you said, Mattheo’s eyes instantly darting to where your hands were resting on the page. “It says in the recipe that we need to juice a squill bulb, which most people just cut it for. But this recipe here notes that squeezing ingredients over a funnel gets more juice out.”

“That’s really interesting.” he whispered, his gaze looking at your face as you spoke. 

“Isn’t it?” you asked with a smile. “And here it says that adding the entire Murtlap makes the potion last longer, rather than just growth.”

“That’s also really interesting.” he whispered again, gaze still stuck on your face. You looked so pretty whenever you were concentrating on things, the way your eyebrows furrowed making him think of a million different songs and rhythms. 

“Is it?” you asked with a chuckle.

“Well,” he muttered, looking at you with a small smile on his face. “I always found Potions an interesting topic.”

“Always is not a word. It’s more of a concept.” you said, humming as you continued reading the pages. Mattheo chuckled softly, looking at you like a lovesick puppy.

“You’re lovely,” he whispered. 

Theo was sitting in his bed reading a book, his curtains almost completely closed as he flipped between page to page. At least, he pretended to.

Recently, he had noticed Mattheo’s obsessive journaling habits. How his hands would be covered in ink by the time he was finished, or how he’d write until his new candle burnt out. Sometimes Mattheo would write even when the candle burnt out, instead opting for yet another one.

It was rather concerning to Theo, to say the least. Out of all of the things Mattheo could do, he was changing who he was. Self-improvement was one thing, but it seemed like he changed an obsession from fighting to writing.

“I can feel you staring at me.” Mattheo mumbled, looking back over at where Theo was sitting.

“I’m surprised you can,” Theo said under his breath, closing his book and standing up. “With how much you’ve been writing, I’d assume you get sucked in by a black hole sometime soon.”

“Oh hush,” he whispered, looking up from the journal. His hands were stained black and red with quill ink, the candle beside him still burning brightly. “Why do you keep staring at me? You’ve been doing it all week.”

“Your journal.” Theo smirked, walking behind Mattheo and placing his hands on his Mattheo’s shoulder. “What’s inside?”

“Why would I tell you?” Mattheo grumbled, continuing to write in the journal. Theo’s eyes squinted as they tried to read whatever was on the page, but the words were too jumbled to make any sense to him. No doubt a charm.

“You charmed the journal?” Theo asked curiously, looking down at Mattheo.

“Like you care.” he whispered under his breath, the quill scratching loudly against the paper. The room was quiet other than that, nothing but the quill scratching and the candle crackling.

“I do.” Theo said, his voice a bit more stern. He pulled up a chair next to Mattheo, resting his elbow on the table. “Mattheo, you’re pushing everyone away. Even me, and it’s not healthy. All you do is write in this journal, it’s kind of worrying.”

“I just like writing,” Mattheo whispered, moving his legs to rest his knees near his chest.

“About what?” Theo asked, his voice more soft than teasing.

“You’ll judge.” Mattheo whispered again, flicking the quill back and forth as his eyes glanced over at Theo. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” Theo whispered. “I promise I won’t judge.”

Mattheo sighed before turning to the journal, pressing his wand against it as the words came into view more clearly. His handwriting was a lot more cursive than Theo first remembered, no doubt changing the more he wrote. 

“It’s a journal about her,” Mattheo whispered, flipping through some of the pages. “Love letters, poems, songs and stuff.”

“Her?” Theo asked curiously. “Who’s her?”

“Her,” Mattheo muttered to Theo, picking at his fingernails as he spoke. He looked like a blushing schoolboy who found his first love, it was rather cute to watch. “It’s, like, she’s a girl I just really like. I think about her a lot, you know? And I’m just trying to improve myself for her.”

“What’s her name?” Theo asked, resting his head against his hand as he crossed his legs.

“Y/N.” Mattheo sighed, like the word itself was a part of some holy prophecy. “She’s so beautiful, you know? Like something from heaven, just beautiful. And I just can’t get her out of my head.”

“Have you ever tried talking to her?” Theo asked, a small smile on his face.

“We have this project together right now.” he said, chuckling softly as he spoke. He was so down bad. “She took me to the library to research more about potions. Merlin, she’s so smart Theo. She figured the reason why nobody could make the potion was because the instructions were wrong.”

“So you both started researching?” Theo asked.

“She researched, yeah,” Mattheo said, before chuckling again. His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I kind of just sat watching her the entire time.” 

“Mattheo,” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. 

“You said you wouldn’t judge!” Mattheo protested.

“I’m not judging.” Theo chuckled, looking down at the journal. “I’m just confused on how you think you’ll get your girl if you can’t even talk to her. Journaling can only go so far.”

“I know,” Mattheo whispered, looking down at his journal again. “But it still helps.”

Theo nodded, looking down at the journal again. “What are you writing about right now?”

“Uh,” he muttered, looking at the pages. “It’s a song. She said something at the library that made me think of a song, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”  

“What’s it sound like.” Theo asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Uhm,” he whispered, picking at his nails again as he pushed the journal towards Theo. He hummed softly as he picked it up, eyes squinting as he tried to read his handwriting.

Darling, just calm with your voice

Let your heart sing, how I always enjoy 

When you say “always” is not a word

You think love is a bit absurd.

“That’s really nice,” Theo said, looking up at Mattheo with a small smirk. “This is a lot better than I thought it’d be, to be honest.”

“What did you think I was writing about?” Mattheo asked confusedly.

“Dark magic or something.” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Like you were possessed by a ghost to figure out how to resurrect themselves.”

Mattheo chuckled at that, taking his journal back. “I think you’ll find someone like this, you know. It makes life really nice.”

“Being in love?” Theo asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” Mattheo whispered. “In love.”

“Well, there’s always an opportunity for that. And when it happens, it’ll happen.” Theo said, patting his pockets and pulling out a box of cigarettes. “But until then, there’s cigarettes.”

“You know the way to my heart, don’t you?” Mattheo snickered at that, using the lit candle to light his own cigarette.

It had been a couple of weeks since you and Mattheo had started working on your project. You had figured out how to maximize the efficiency of your potion brewing, including changing methods of brewing and preparing ingredients. After about three different trials, you had finally found the perfect way to brew the potion. 

“That’s perfect.” Mattheo smiled softly at you, chuckling softly as he scratched the back of his neck. In all honesty, it looked like a regular potion to him. “I think that’s perfect, right?”

“That is perfect.” you said, giggling softly as his reaction You found it rather cute, if you were being honest. He seemed rather nervous around you. “Thank you for doing all of this with me, the potion work and all. Most people would probably just leave it to me, you know?”

“Why would they leave?” Mattheo asked, eyebrows furrowing.

You shrugged, looking down at the potion still set in the cauldron as you spoke. “I don’t really know. I guess people consider me weird or something like that. Someone said that I was whimsical once, I don’t think it was a nice way though.”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous.” Mattheo spat. He couldn’t understand the logic of that. In his eyes, you were absolutely perfect. He would give anything in the world to hang out with you more often than he got too, and people gave that up for free? The thought was absolutely ridiculous.

You chuckled quietly at that, smiling softly. “Yeah?”

“Definitely. I mean,” he paused, looking up at you like that was the most absurd thing in the entire world. He had a small flush on his face, no doubt questioning what he was going to say. “I mean, you’re such a nice person. And I think that hanging around you is comforting.”

“And I think that you’re rather sweet.” you chuckled, looking at him with a soft smile.

“I’m being serious!” Mattheo said, looking you in the eyes. You hadn’t heard him talk this much in the entire time that you had been working with him, and you especially didn’t expect it to be him defending you. “You’re just, like, you. Which is really sweet, you know? I really like you and your whimsy, or whatever they try to call you.”

You giggled again, smiling softly at him as you scooted a bit closer. “You’re rather nice yourself, if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you.” he whispered, his voice raising a pitch as he looked at the potion. “Do we need to test this?”

“I think so.” she nodded. “Do you want to do it?”

Mattheo looked at the potion, a small frown coming on her face. If anything went wrong with the podcast, he wouldn’t want you to be hurt by it. Which led to him nodding, the best option for him obviously being him taking the potion himself. 

“I’ll bottle it for you.” you said, grabbing the small ladle and pouring it inside the potion vial. “Here, one vial of Liquid Luck for you.”

Mattheo smiled softly as he took a sniff of it. “Is it meant to smell like something?”

“No, just air. I mean, clean air. Not like toxic air or anything.” you said, before ending your small speel. “It doesn’t smell like anything.”

Mattheo nodded again, taking a swig of it before coughing. “That’s definitely hot.”

“It did just come off the cauldron.” you chuckled, fingers fidgeting slightly. “Do you feel lucky?”

Mattheo looked up at you with a look you could only describe as a lovesick puppy, a small flush covering his face as he admired you. You could only assume the amount of thoughts running through his mind were plenty, some very hard to sort through. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, blinking slowly as he looked at you. “Very lucky.”

You chuckled softly at that, your face flushing as you watched his eyes lock onto your lips. “Do I have something on my lips or something?”

“No,” he whispered softly, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he spoke. “No, I just,”

“Something on my teeth?” you asked, shining your teeth to him.

“I want to kiss you.” he whispered. 

Your mouth closed again as you heard that, eyes locking onto his after he spoke. That didn’t last long though, as his eyes focused back on your lips again. “You what?”

“I want to kiss you.” he said a bit more clearly, his voice hoarse as he spoke. “I mean, I don’t want to pressure you. But I really want to kiss you.”

“You can kiss me.” you whispered softly to him, scooting a bit closer to him in return. 

Mattheo blinked for a couple of seconds, the shock of your answer plastered on his face. It filled you with a small sense of confidence, the blush on his face fueling your own. “I can?”

“You can.” you smiled.

Mattheo smiled brightly at that, the burn of it brighter than the sun sucking his lips in like a blackhole would. His lips immediately met yours, burning like fireworks against his skin. It was absolute bliss to him, burning through his skin and turning him into nothing but lovesick ash.

“Your lips are absolutely perfect, my love.” he whispered, his eyes boring into yours with a gaze full of adoration. “So perfect.”

“Was your luck to try and kiss me, Riddle?” you chuckled softly at him. 

“This is the luckiest moment of my life.” he whispered. 

“Theo!” Mattheo spat out, opening the dorm room door as he stormed in. His palms looked sweaty, and his face was absolutely covered in a bright blush. 

“Mattheo.” Theo said his name back, closing his book as he looked at where Mattheo had stormed in. He looked absolutely wrecked, almost drenched in sweat. “You look like you just got your ass kicked on the Quidditch field.”

“I just,” he whispered, walking closer to Theo as he paced around the room. “I just kissed her.”

“Y/N?” Theo asked, a small smile crossing her face. “You kissed her?”

“It was so perfect.” he whispered, laying down on Theo’s bed. “Like, it was like her lips had a magnetic pull on me. I couldn’t stop for the next hour. A whole hour!”

“That’s wild, mate.” he chuckled softly, patting Mattheo on the head.

“It was just perfect,” he whispered under his breath, sighing softly. “Like, I don’t know how else to describe it. Maybe like looking at a supernova for the first time.”

“You are down bad, Mattheo.” he chuckled softly at that, continuing to pat his friend on the head.

“And then we, after that right?” he said, the smile on his face only growing larger. “We snuck off to this broom closet. You know the ones. And we did, we had,” he paused, sighing in frustration as his words jumbled in his head. “You know?”

“I know.” Theo chuckled.

“I have a song idea again.” Mattheo said, sitting up again as he rushed to the journal he kept so dearly to his heart. “I will be dead to the world for the next few hours.”

“You want me to go tell Y/N that, lover boy?” Theo smirked.

“She can come in whenever.” Mattheo said, dipping his quill in black ink. “I already gave her our dormitory password.”

“You what?”

“I have a present for you.” Mattheo whispered under his breath, a small smile on his face as he walked towards you.

It was the 6 month anniversary of one of the happiest relationships you had ever been in. There was communication and there was love. Small dates near the Black Lake at midnight, with breakfast you stole from the Great Hall earlier. Times where he’d take you into town and let you dress up however you wanted, all on the cards he stole from Malfoy. Or small get-togethers like this, hangouts at the top of the Astronomy Tower. 

And the presents were always lovely. Small poems that he wrote for you, or love letters that he hand wrapped himself. A small blush or dress you had been eyeing for more than two seconds, or room decor that went with your forever indecisive aesthetics. 

“You do?” you giggled softly, gasping softly as he pulled out a small guitar. “A song?”

“I’ve written a couple for you,” he whispered. “And I wanted to sing them to you. For our anniversary.”

“I love you.” you giggled, smiling as he sat down.

He cleared his throat as he made sure the guitar was in tune, strumming a few chords before eventually developing a melody. It seemed almost hypnotic the way his hands moved, his voice humming along as he figured out the rhythm.

“Yesterday, I was a word. Left with no voice to speak it,” he hummed softly, his voice and the guitar both vibrating through the walls. You smiled brightly as you heard his voice, not realizing how pretty his voice actually sounded.

“Now I am a happy song, placed on the lips of a woman.” he sang, winking at you. He continued for a few lines, a small smirk growing on his lips as he got to the instrumental part.

“What are you going to sing next?” you asked, watching him giggle softly. “Seriously!”

“Patience,” he whispered, chuckling as he strung the melody again, his eyes darting down at the guitar. “Now she has me, under her skirt,”

“Mattheo!” you flushed, slapping his arm and breaking the rhythm of his song. “My skirt?”

The both of you burst out into a laugh at that, the sound breaking through the cold night air that breezed through the alcove you sat in. Or maybe you just felt warm in his presence, a constant feeling of love rushing through your body.

“Can I finish my song now?” he smirked.

“I suppose you could.” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as he continued to sing.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

my second post oh my GOD this one took a hot minute to get through. beta-reading and proof reading is definitely not my jam, and there's definitely things that i missed in this. but i hope it still works out well, especially the whole lovesick angle i was going for. if you guys haven't already, please please please go check out tamino's music. it is actually so. good. if you listen to hozier or adrianne lenker, i think you'd really like his songs (my favorites are the first disciple and habibi)

as always, please like, comment, and reblog! it really helps out, and i really appreciate everyone who does! if you guys have any requests or something you can request in the ask box!

[imtherain]

Smeared Lipstick

Still on my Logan nonsense (thank god) and had a round of Patch!Logan feels. I know nothing about him other than what I saw in Deadpool and Wolverine, so sorry if I messed him up somehow.

This is for @likedovesinthewnd because she's the one who told me I should write it lol

Also shout out to @bpmiranda for posting the best/nastiest smut fics that inspired me to go ham and not hold back for once. If you need some more Logan, read mine first but she's got a lot more!

Warnings: Casino, basically pure smut with only a sprinkle of plot, oral (male receiving), some light conartistry, mutant reader, bathroom smut, fingering (both receiving because I'm a feminist lol), sugar daddy but only kinda, Patch!Logan, a touch of 'getting caught', and probably some other stuff. Let me know if I missed anything important.

Word Count: 3473 (don't look at me)

[More Logan]

[Main Master List]

“Hit me,” 

The dealer passed Logan another card and he concealed his joy easily. He’d hit 20 for the third time at this table. Lady Luck always on his side.

“You win again, sir,” The dealer said, pushing the new stack chips across the table to him.

“I’m afraid it’s time we close this table, sir,” Your voice always soothed something in him. You’d been working at this particular casino for a few months, and so, Logan always found himself at your tables. No one suspected the truth of why you both were there.

“Pity, I was doing so well,” Logan looked up at you with his one good eye, drinking in the way your glittery red dress hugged every single one of your edges just right. How your hair was done up with sparkly bits to match the shine on your dress. How your lipstick was the exact shade of red as your dress.

You looked good enough to eat, if he were being honest.

“I’m sure I can find you somewhere else to play,” You smile, half customer service, half something naughty.  Logan put the cigar he’d been chewing on away into his pocket. He had a feeling he’d find himself with something better to put in his mouth shortly.

“Lead the way, sweetheart,” Logan stood, leaving his chips all on the table. “Cash those into my account,” This was directed at the dealer who was just cleaning up his station.

“Please, Mr. Locken,” You urged the dealer. He was a clever young man, one of your best dealers. He’d caught three different cheaters in his time at the casino, and you were impressed that he was so good at catching them. Even the team upstairs, who’s entire job it was to catch cheating, had missed one of the three Locken had spotted.

“Of course, Miss Y/N,” Locken replied, gathering Logan’s chips.

“Thank you,” You said, taking Logan’s arm and leading him away. 

Logan had been staring at the skin exposed that showed over the slinky material of your dress. You knew poor Locken likely knew exactly what you and Mr. Logan were about to get up to. Locken didn’t really want to know, but it wasn’t exactly a secret that you and Mr. Logan, the high roller with an eye patch, were an item. Most of the staff knew, and the rest likely suspected.

But Mr. Logan, being a high roller, got away with all kinds of things. Fucking the floor manager was hardly a big deal or a surprise at that point.

“And where are you taking me, Miss Y/N,” Logan mocked Locken’s tone and you smacked his chest with one hand. “As I recall, there aren’t any tables this way, and the hotel is the other direction too,” 

“I was thinking you needed a little more luck,” You told him. “I heard that another big fish was headed in to drop some cash, and he’s luckier than most who walk through the door.” There was something about you that no one in the building, other than Logan, knew about you… and that was that you were a mutant who could control a person’s luck. You could also see how lucky someone was, just by touching them. It came in all kinds of handy working in a casino, and extra handy where Logan was involved. The two of you having a sort of arrangement in regards to luck.

“What did you have in mind for me?” Logan mused as you led him down another hallway and into a single stall bathroom. It was one of the large single stall bathrooms, where several people could use the two sinks and spacious counter during a wedding or other event, usually to get ready. This particular bathroom was out of the way of the main space though, less likely to get interrupted.

“Lock the door,” You told him with a saucy smirk. 

You and Logan had met originally in a different casino, and he’d figured out that his string of bad luck had been tied to you. He thought, originally, that it was because he’d gotten so distracted by you that he’d lost his edge. You knew it was because you’d turned all his luck to bad and all your own luck to good, hoping to clean house well enough to eat for the next month.

“Yes, ma’am,” Logan turned to lock the door and when he turned back, you were sitting on the counter, skirt hiked up to your knees. Logan took a deep breath through his nose that quickly dissolved into a growl of pleasure as he smelled your arousal. “Never will get over how good you smell, honey,” He stepped between your thighs and tipped your chin up so that you were looking at him.

“Only for you baby,” You purred back, leaning up so your breath brushed his lips sensually.

“No kissing,” Logan reminded you, and you pouted, but you knew the deal. After he’d found you out as a mutant, you’d both struck a deal. You would give him better luck, and he'd take good care of you, effectively becoming your sugar daddy. Only, if you called him ‘daddy’ he’d bend you over his knee, so you saved that for special occasions. 

“Please?” You begged, knowing that was the only line left in the sand between you. You’d done everything else, had sex in every direction you could think of. But no kissing. Never kissing.

You didn’t like it, but it was easy enough to complain around.

“You know the rules,” Logan growled softly. He ran his tongue along the exposed skin at your throat and you moaned. He chuckled, feeling your vibrations against his tongue.

“Rules are made to be broken, I thought?” You pressed as he stepped forward to bump the hardness in his pants against you. Your hips moved against him as if there was ever any question to what was going on between you.

“I can walk away,” Logan warned and you whined, but nodded to tell him you’d stop asking. “Good girl,” 

“Wait,” You said, suddenly having a sordid idea. Logan rocked backwards on his heel far enough to peer questioningly into your face. “Let me take care of you this time,” 

“You wanna take care of me?” Logan asked skeptically. You reached down to palm him through his slacks. His eye fluttered closed at the contact and he had to brace himself on the counter on either side of you.

“Please, baby? Since you won’t let me kiss you, at least let me taste you?” You batted your eyelashes at him and he knew he was a sucker for giving in to you anytime you did that. Hell, he’d kill a man no questions asked, if you batted your lashes at him.

“Get to it then,” He moved back only far enough to let you slide off the counter and to your knees. You made short work of undoing his belt and pants. You pulled his slacks and boxers down just far enough to allow his cock to spring free. He was already rock hard and leaking for you when you cooed happily and kitten licked the warm tip of him.

He had to grip the counter again to remain in control of himself. You smirked as you did it again, tasting the salty tang of his precum before you wrapped your lips around just the head of his cock.

“Fuck,” Logan grunted, trying his best not to slam his dick straight down your throat. He knew you could take it, but he wanted to let you get there on your own.

“Want me to stop?” You pause only long enough to ask before you licked a long stripe up the underside of him, tracing the thick vein there from balls to tip.

“Don’t you dare,” Logan pants, cursing again when you go back to the small licks along the very tip of his cock. You always seemed to know exactly how to drive him out of his mind. Maybe that was why he’d give you anything you wanted. Diamonds, jewelry, gold, silver, hotel rooms, a car if you asked for it… He’d give you anything his money could buy. 

Anything but the heart he was pretty sure you weren’t even aware you’d already stolen.

You pressed a small kiss to his angry red tip before sticking out your tongue and sliding him into the warmth of your mouth.

Logan cursed again, his hips bucking once before he could stop himself. You adjusted your knees on the hard tile floor, loosened your jaw, and slid your hands lovingly around his thighs.

With your eyes fluttering softly and the end of his dick in your mouth, Logan was surprised he didn’t cum right there on your tongue.

You looked up at him and gave a slight nod, telling him you were ready for him to take control if he wanted it. Logan felt his heart rate spike as the animal in him begged to claim you. If he wasn’t careful he’d bury his fist in your hair and throat fuck you until you couldn’t speak. But he’d promised to be careful when you were at work, because you needed to look nice for the casino.

When Logan didn’t immediately take over, you leaned forward, taking more and more of him into your mouth, slowly, until he just barely touched the back of your throat. Your throat constricted on a gag and the feeling of your throat closing was all it took for the animal inside him to break free.

Logan’s strong hand cradled the back of your head, trying to avoid pulling out the glittery baubles you’d put there this morning before he’d driven you to work. You leaned back into his palm, trying to ease the sensation in your throat, and you got relief for about two beats before that same careful hand pulled you back along him until your nose was pressed flush with the rough hair at his base.

You knew it was his turn to have his fun now, and you couldn’t help but grin for a moment before you remembered how hard it was to breathe around the girth of his cock.

Your nails dug into the meat of his thighs as you focused on breathing while he jerked his hips. The drag of his cock along your tongue made heat pool in your stomach as he abused your throat over and over again.

Meanwhile, Logan was making the most guttural noises while he used your throat. His grunting and groaning echoing in the empty bathroom, occasionally punctuated by a soft curse or two when your throat squeezed him just right. All paired with the wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of your throat.

But as much as you’d love to let him stay there in your mouth until he came, you needed a break. You reached up and tapped on his stomach, your agreed sign that you needed air. 

Instantly, Logan pulled back and caught your eyes with his one good one.

“You alright?” He asked and you nodded with a slight cough.

“Just needed to catch my breath,” You admitted. “I’m out of practice,” 

“I know one way to fix that,” Logan said with a cheeky grin.

“Give me five more seconds,” You said, adjusting on your knees again. You took a second to pull his slacks down to his knees. You lean in and give some attention to each of his beefy thighs, kissing the strong muscles and nibbling the soft flesh.

“Don’t tease me,” Logan grumbled, his hand coming back to your head. “Finish what you started,” 

“Yes, sir,” You batted your lashes up at him and his cock twitched next to your face. You took another moment to lick the side of him, rubbing his length against your face, showcasing just how long he was compared to your head. It was a wonder you could fit him all down your throat.

You kissed the side of his dick a few times, preparing you both for another round, and with one last kitten lick to his slit, his dick slid back into your throat.

The second time was always easier for you, and you’re always happy to help when it means he would let out those grunting noises you love so much.

And you knew exactly what would make him whine for you too.

You slid your hands up and around the back of his thighs until you could grip both of his taught buttcheeks in your hand. This distracted him enough from his movements that you were able to swallow around his tip and make him groan again. You bobbed your head as you kneaded his flesh and he got lost in the sensation the exact same way you did when he was face down between your legs. And just like he always did, you carefully slid a finger into his waiting hole.

The noise Logan makes is something you wished you could bottle up for a rainy day. It’s somewhere near a whine and too gravelly to be a whimper. You withdraw only long enough to add some moisture to your digits before working yourself back into him, stroking at that spot deep inside that makes his thighs tense and his knees shake.

Having discovered how stroking him like this made him feel, you understood why he liked to finger-fuck you so much. Making him experience such pleasure, pleasure that only you have brought him? Heaven. Heaven on earth, about to cum down your throat.

Logan never lasted long with your fingers in his ass.

You hold your breath while he comes undone in your mouth, bucking his hips against the swirling of your tongue. You try to swallow it all, but it’s difficult when he’s moving still, so you just hold on until he’s pumped every last drop into your mouth.

Before he can be overstimulated too much, he pulls your hand away from him and slides himself from your soft mouth.

“Fuck, baby, thought you were going to suck me dry for a second there,” 

“I would if you’d let me,” You smiled up at him. He reached down and gently rubbed his thumb under your bottom lip, catching a drip of his cum that you hadn’t managed to swallow. At first you thought he’d press it into your mouth, but instead he brought it to his own and you felt your face flame with unexpected heat.

“Maybe next time sweetheart,” Logan helped you to your feet before adjusting himself and pulling up his slacks.

“Wait, you’ve got lipstick all over,” You tried to stop him from tucking himself away hoping you could clean him up properly, but he just chuckled and did up his pants.

“Something to remember you by,” He teased and you rolled your eyes before turning to the mirror to see the state of your own face. It was about what you’d figured but also you didn’t mind in the slightest.

Your red lipstick was smeared all across your cheek, your eyes were wet so your eyeshadow had mostly rubbed off, but luckily your eyeliner had stayed put. You wore super waterproof eyeliner for that reason after all. There was still some of the sticky release of Logan’s painted on your lips and tongue from where you’d failed to swallow it all.

“Look at that,” You mused. “You smeared my lipstick,” Logan chuckled at that, turning you around so that he could see.

“Seems so,” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silk handkerchief. He gently took your chin and held you steady while he soiled the white silk with your red lipstick and the remains of his cum. After fucking your throat like that, you almost forgot he could be gentle too.

You liked it when he was gentle.

When Logan was satisfied with his work, he put his handkerchief back in his pocket and leaned down to kiss your cheek, you froze when you felt his lips at the edge of yours. Almost a kiss. 

But he knew better than that. 

You both did.

You whined softly for him, wanting more, but you also needed to get back to work.

“Turn around for me,” Logan said. You raised an eyebrow at him but did as he asked, gasping when he pressed himself against your ass.

“Logan,” You chided. “I need to head back,” 

“Just give me a minute to return the favor,” Logan was smirking at you over your shoulder as you watched him in the mirror. “I promise I won’t smear your lipstick this time,” You bit your lip at the thought of him getting you off here too.

“I really should be getting back,” You tried to say, but it was half hearted at best. He smacked your ass and you whimpered at him, terribly needy and terribly turned on.

“Spread your legs for me and lift your skirt,” He commanded against the shell of your ear. “Now,” You jumped at the authority in his voice and moved to do as he asked. You hoisted your skirt up to your hips and let your legs shift apart so that he had room to slide his knee between your thighs.

You gasped as he bounced his leg into your sensitive folds.

“I’ll repay you properly when we get home tonight, but until then,” He pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck. “Let me make my baby feel good,” You could only nod as he reached down and slid his hand into your already soaked panties.

“Logan,” You moaned as his finger traced circles around your bud. “That feels so good,” 

“Good,” He nibbled on your earlobe. “Just relax,” 

You were about to give in entirely when the handle to the bathroom jiggled and it reminded you all at once that you were still at work.

“Fuck… Logan…” You tried to stop him, but he just dipped his fingers deeper and you mewled instead.

“Don’t worry about that, focus on me and what I’m doing,” Logan purred. The handle rattled again and this time you heard someone curse about the bathroom being occupied too long.

You jumped when the person outside banged on the door.

“Find another bathroom, bub!” Logan growled loudly as he kicked the door angrily in return. Another curse from outside the door and Logan slowed his movements until he couldn’t hear the person outside anymore. “Now where were we?”

You were gripping his arm, which was wrapped around your waist to keep you in place.

“I don’t even remember,” You admitted with a laugh, which shifted into a moan as he moved his fingers against you again and all at once you remembered. “Fuck,” You moaned.

“That’s it,” He sped up his fingers, watching your face in the mirror as your closed your eyes in pleasure. “Come on, baby, give it to me,” He grunted against your shoulder, his teeth teasing your skin.

It didn’t take much more for you to cum around his fingers, fluttering and shaking in his arms as he held you up.

“That’s it pretty girl, that’s it,” Logan purrs against your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “That’s my pretty girl,” 

You turned, wanting to kiss him, to thank him for this, but you remembered his rule, so instead you pressed your forehead into his jaw and whined at him.

“I really do need to get back to work,” You whisper. “And you need to go make enough money for that trip we’ve been talking about,” 

“Yes ma’am,” Logan chuckled in your ear as he finally pulled his fingers out of the tight embrace of your cunt. You groaned at the loss of him, but hummed in pleasure when you watched him lick his fingers clean. “Need me to carry you to your desk?” He teased.

“Oh shush,” You stood and adjusted yourself. “I was just enjoying the moment for a little longer,” 

“Could always play hooky and use your key to get us into a room upstairs,” Logan said, like he was nothing but serious. You shove him playfully.

“Yeah, and then I’ll get fired again,” You chided. “We’re going to run out of good casinos if we keep doing that,” 

“So?” He pressed his lips to your temple. “Maybe when we run out of casinos, I’ll make an honest woman out of you,” This makes you pause. Could he be serious? 

“Only once we’ve run out?” You asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

“And if we get married, I’ll have to kiss you, won’t I?” It sounded almost like a tease, but there was nothing but joy and mirth in his eye.

And maybe, just maybe, love was sparkling in there too.

[More Logan]

[Main Master List]

[xinganhao]

🩵 dead poets society member!vernon x reader.

offshoot from the dead poets society!hhu x reader verse. (highly advise to read that first before delving into this!) part of my svt university milestone event.

I said / "I am afraid I will spend entire years / trying not to need you." / As if I wasn't certain. As if this wasn't my confession. — I swear, next time I see you I'll be funny by Clementine Von Radics

PREVIOUSLY ›

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ cool about it by boygenius. sa ngalan ng pag-ibig by december avenue. everything by the black skirts. buyer's remorse by daniel caesar & omar apollo. godspeed by frank ocean. someday i'll get it by alek olsen. everyone adores you (at least i do) by matt maltese. tie my shoes by beabadooobee. nothing can by niki.

on his first year away, vernon focuses on physical distance. a foolish part of him thinks that the more miles he puts in between the two of you, the easier it will be for him to get over this stupid, hopeless crush that lasted throughout his uni years. and so vernon goes backpacking, goes solo traveling. he lets the wind take him wherever. if anything, he only realizes just how deeply ingrained you are in his subconscious. he thinks of you when he passes a secondhand bookstore. he itches to text when he has a particularly good coffee. and when the sky is clear, when it's just the perfect shade of blue? he swears he can hear you in the back of his head, quoting mary oliver. (or: this is the year vernon learns all the different ways you can miss a person.)

vernon spends his second year on dating apps. it makes him a bit sick to his stomach, really. he doesn't think he's doing it right. he matches with people, sure. even manages to bag a handful of dates. each one ends with him giving them some variation of 'i don't think this is going to work out', and when they inevitably ask why, he lies through his teeth. too busy to be in a serious relationship. too emotionally out of it to commit. anything but the truth. (or: this is the year vernon realizes that no one measures up to you.)

by the time his third year away rolls around, vernon is beginning to feel a bit pathetic. here he is, after all that time, and he's still haunted by the shadow of a relationship that didn't even come to the light. sometimes, that seems to be worse— saying goodbye and knowing the door is left open a crack. he distracts himself with literally everything else. he tries out improv. he finally opens up a letterboxd account. he signs up for marathons. (or: this is the year vernon runs, in more ways than one.)

there's less of an ache by the time that year four comes. vernon doesn't think of you as often as he used to. he's able to be with someone else without imagining you in their place. even as that relationship eventually ends, he's glad that it's because of reasons unrelated to you. he's finally gotten to a point where he can look at himself in the mirror and not think of all the ways he faltered or failed. despite everything, it's still him. (or: this is the year vernon accepts the version of himself in his reflection.)

five years. it takes five years before vernon can finally reach back out. not to everyone yet, no. he starts slow. mingyu gives him a whole load of shit for it. seungcheol asks a dozen questions. wonwoo understands. vernon is grateful for them, so much so that he finds himself watching the dead poets society on his plane ride home. it's all fun and games until the scene with robin williams, where the schoolboys are paying ode to him with cries of "o captain, my captain!" it's the very line that echoes in his head when he sees you some feet away from him during a chance encounter. suddenly, none of it matters. not the distance, not the blind dates, not the man that he's tried so hard to be. all he can think of— all he can see— is you. o captain, my captain. (or: this is the year vernon decides to be honest with himself.)

[darkmatilda]

𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: spencer takes care of you after a serious accident.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: hospital, rehabilitation, neck and brain injury, nud1ty

𝐚/𝐧: this is one of the potential endings of my fanfiction "with the light off" which officialy remains open up to your own interpretation. this version written to comfort all the hearts i've broken <3

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 11k

Spencer felt embarrassed by how, just an hour after leaving the apartment, he already wanted to call her.

She had already occupied a near-constant presence in the back of his mind, slipping in like a shadow—elusive and playful—darting between his thoughts, flitting from one corner to another whenever he tried, even briefly, to forget about her. But now? After that night they had spent together?

Spencer knew a lot about obsession. He understood the weight of the word and was acutely aware of its gravity. Yet he couldn’t deny it—he was obsessed with her. Physical contact had always been a sensitive yet profoundly significant subject for him. He didn’t allow many people that close. 

For him, touch was the ultimate proof of closeness and trust. Intimacy bred attachment. This wasn’t about desire in its rawest form—it was something else… though he wasn’t entirely sure what. He couldn’t define the bond they shared.

He felt bored, detached from the world when she wasn’t in it, and the only thing keeping him tethered to some semblance of normality was the thought—the imagining—that at this very moment, they were breathing the same air.

He was starting to think he might be losing his mind.

He held off on calling her precisely to avoid coming across as a lunatic in her eyes. He managed to restrain himself only once he was at work, where the seriousness of his profession demanded it. In a way, though, he felt lighter. Throughout the day, he was buoyed by the thought of their upcoming meeting, the excitement it brought—and the nerves. That mixture of emotions was enough to make the entire team glance at him with curiosity.

Garcia was handing out case files, her hair recently dyed a vibrant shade of red. Rossi, instead of opening his folder like everyone else, was watching Spencer from across the table, leaning on his elbow.

“Did you win the lottery or something?” he asked, so unexpectedly that Spencer glanced around at the others, unsure who the question was meant for.

When he realized the question was directed at him, he swallowed hard. Morgan’s raised eyebrow seemed to challenge him to a duel.

“Not that I know of. Why?”

“Because you’re practically glowing, sweetheart,” Penelope chimed in with a sly smile. “Don’t think you’re getting away without telling me everything later. I’ll get it out of you, don’t you worry. But for now, let’s get started…”

They immersed themselves in the case, but a few hours later, during a brief moment of downtime, he realized he was looking for an excuse to call her. Was a simple desire to ask what she was up to reason enough?

He wondered if she was still at his apartment. He hoped she was. He knew she’d eventually have to leave to prepare for the shift she was starting later that afternoon, but he couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at him about the whole situation with her roommate’s ex-boyfriend.

Realizing he’d been staring at his phone for far too long and that he’d soon need to get back to work, he made a snap decision and called.

But no one answered.

Logically, he reasoned that mornings were probably her time to sleep. Afterward, he tried sending a text message. But by late evening, when he finally returned to his apartment, he was starting to feel genuinely worried.

The question nagged at him: could it have been about the previous night? Maybe he’d done or said something wrong, something that had put her off completely?

Slowly, he walked into the bedroom, pausing in the doorway as his eyes landed on the perfectly made bed. It definitely hadn’t looked like that when he left it.

Then his gaze fell on the slightly ajar safe, and he froze. The combination was incredibly complicated, so he must have left it open when he took out his gun and badge. Besides those items, there was one more thing inside.

He had once again fallen into the trap of keeping Dilaudid close, even though he wasn’t using it. Was it possible she found it, and that’s why she hadn’t reached out?

It wasn’t that he had lied to her about being clean. She had seen how much effort it took for him to talk about it, so she approached the subject with incredible subtlety, never asking directly, but watching him closely, carefully, yet without pressing.

If she had really found it in his safe, she might have felt betrayed. Or maybe she decided she didn’t want to get involved with someone who had such a problem. Perhaps she had seen the whole previous night as one big mistake and then decided to throw him out of her life. Spencer, though it pained him, couldn’t help but feel that he deserved it.

He sat on the bed, crushed by his own thoughts. Something didn’t sit right with the version of events he had imagined. First and foremost, she wasn’t the type of person who would turn him away because of this. Her heart ached to help others; she couldn’t ignore someone else’s troubles. Even if he had hurt her, her immense capacity for understanding would have remained intact. Empathy was imprinted on her, like a deep, unshakable mark.

Driven by a hunch, he reached for his phone to call her again. That’s when he noticed two missed calls from an unknown number, just fifteen minutes ago.

He pressed the phone to his ear, his brow furrowing in confusion as he heard the first sound on the other end… a sob?

The sound went on and on, and Spencer was too confused to utter a single word.

“Who am I talking to?” he finally asked. Unable to stop himself, he stood up. He didn’t even know what was going on or who he was talking to, but he sprang to his feet anyway. His body compelled him, his insides twisting with unpleasant spasms.

It could just as well have been some stupid prank. The problem was, it wasn’t.

“H-hey, it’s J-Jude,” a voice came from the other end. Female, shaky, and choked with sobs so severe that if he didn’t already know her name, he would never have guessed he was speaking to her roommate. He stopped pacing the room. “I-it was me…I called earlier. S-she doesn’t have any…any family, and I didn’t know…I didn’t know who to inform…I can’t handle this on my own…they just took her away again…”

It wasn’t as if the world suddenly came to a halt. It simply became both sharper and blurrier at the same time. Spencer could see that single, bright strand of hair on the pillow with perfect clarity, yet his own legs seemed out of reach. When he looked down, all he saw was darkness stretching below him. Somehow, he was still breathing.

“What are you talking about?” he asked. Later, he couldn’t explain how his voice—those first words—had sounded so composed. “W-who took her… where… and why…?

“I have no fucking idea!” she shouted, followed by a long silence during which Jude took a desperate gasp of air. “I mean, I do, I do know! They just brought her in, but... but suddenly they took her back because there was some kind of…bleeding…”

“...ding?” he blurted out, the first syllable swallowed entirely by his panic.

“No, I don’t want anything to calm me down, I am calm, can’t you tell?” Her voice grew distant, as if she’d pulled the phone away from her mouth. Then it came back, clear and pleading. “Please, come here…”

She hung up. The phone slipped from his hand as if it burned him. In a frenzy, he bent down to grab it, only to drop it again. Finally, he fell to his knees, managing at last to pick it up. As he stood, he felt as though some substance was spreading through his brain—black, toxic, and utterly destructive. Its effects left him barely tethered to reality. He could hear and see, but everything was overlaid with Jude’s words, looping in his mind like printed text on a screen.

The next thirty minutes were a blur.

How could it be logically explained that, in a state of complete detachment from the outside world, he somehow managed to figure out, based on the map of the area imprinted in his memory, which specific hospital she was in? How did his panicked, trembling hands manage to cover that distance by car without causing an accident?

The only thing he knew was that he ended up at the nearest hospital, wearing just a shirt with no outer layer. It was shocking that he even had shoes on. 

He should have been looking for the woman who had called him, demanding every bit of information she had. But somehow, instinctively, his eyes searched for someone else—a familiar face. He prayed it was all some sort of misunderstanding. Maybe he was fooling himself, hoping to spot her among the people passing by. A part of him simply refused to accept the possibility that anything could have happened to her.

Nothing had happened.

She was fine.

Her blue eyes were soaking in the surroundings, their gaze carrying that faint sparkle that always appeared at night. Maybe there was even a smile on her lips. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—allow himself to imagine what might have happened to her. It felt as though the universe itself should be ashamed for ever entertaining the thought of harming her.

"Are you family?" the man at reception asked. Spencer nodded. "I'm sorry, but I can't provide you with any information,"

"Just tell me, is she alive?"

"I can't…"

"Just fucking tell me…"

"They’re operating on her right now," a voice spoke from behind him. Spencer turned and blinked. Only then did he realize he was in a hospital. Before, he’d only had a goal—an urgent need to get there. The surroundings were just beginning to take shape in his mind. He had never seen this woman before, but he guessed it had to be Jude. Her face was swollen from crying, but she seemed less shaken than during their call. She had probably accepted the sedatives. "Again. First, they spent almost four hours working on her neck… they said she was stable, asleep, but then suddenly there was that bleeding… I watched them take her out of the room right in front of me…"

“Did you see her?”

Unexpectedly, she hid her face in her hands.

“I didn’t know who to call. She mentioned you a few times, and I had your number, and I didn’t know what to do…” she began explaining chaotically, as if it mattered at all. “It’s my fault, you know, all of this is my fucking fault…”

They were standing right in front of the receptionist, blocking his access to others who needed help. Spencer snapped back to the moment, pulling her a few steps aside.

“W-what did you say? That they operated on her for four hours?”

“Yes, the first time…”

So, she had been there for at least four hours. Longer, considering the time needed after surgery before visiting a patient. Pain spread across his chest. While he was wondering why she hadn’t answered his calls, coming to various conclusions, she had been fighting for her life?

He... had been at work, moving around, talking to others, living, while all of this was happening? He felt as if... as if he had betrayed her. It was absurd, even he knew that. Despite the state he was in—tragic, to be precise—he understood just how absurd that thought was. But he couldn’t stop the guilt and shame that washed over him every time he tried to imagine her on the operating table while he had been completely unaware of her condition.

“I need to sit down," Jude muttered, and after a moment, they found themselves on narrow chairs lined along the hospital walls. Spencer barely managed to force his knees to bend, his body to settle into the seat.

He was only beginning to adjust to the foreign gravity that was pressing down on him.

In his head, there was only one thought, one resolution, one desire. The only thing that could save him from losing his mind in this waiting room.

"I need to see her."

"We have to wait," Jude replied, pressing her hand to her forehead. More tears appeared in her eyes. She wasn’t just terrified, she was completely falling apart. "We... we once gave each other permission to access information about our health. You know, in case of an accident. The doctors told me everything. A neck sprain. A concussion. Two broken ribs and a broken forearm." Although her speech had been unclear earlier, when she listed the injuries, she sounded like a movie announcer.

Spencer quickly realized that these words must have been echoing in her head since they were first told to her. The same thing had been happening to him. Each word was like a blow delivered with full force, and his extensive medical knowledge wasn’t helping him avoid panic. He was too aware of the danger and too aware of the suffering her poor body must have endured.

They both squeezed their eyes shut tightly. Spencer felt as though his temples might explode. Waiting. Was there anything worse in the world than waiting? Being stuck in ignorance, teetering between uncertainty, relief, and utter despair? Feeling all of it at once?

"How did this even happen?" he asked the woman sitting next to him.

He was sure he already knew the answer to that question. She didn’t even need to say it. It was enough to see how she dropped her gaze, heavy with pain, and how tightly her jaw clenched.

“She... fell down the stairs.”

Spencer wanted to scoff at the understatement. The real version of events couldn’t pass Jude’s lips, but in some way, he considered that a blessing. If Jude had openly admitted that she had been pushed, he might have crumbled under the weight of the fury flooding him. But for now, his anger didn’t matter. Only the passing time did.

He felt as if he hadn’t taken a single breath since leaving his apartment. Leaning his head back in his seat, he endured what felt like two whole days, then glanced at his watch only to realize that exactly forty-seven seconds had passed.

Time—a relative concept. In physics and in human perception. Einstein had proven it, and so had that particular moment.

He started to fear that he might never leave the waiting room. Memories and emotions began to blur together. He formed a theory: that he had been trapped there for quite some time—weeks, perhaps. Back when another loved one had been on the operating table, and he’d been losing his mind in much the same way.

Could it be that, under the strain of this torturous waiting, he’d lost his sanity? That his brain, desperate for relief, had simply imagined everything that followed? The trip to the library that night, finding himself at her door, the string lights on the Christmas tree, the Venus flytrap, the bar, opening the door that night and seeing her on the stairwell—at once flushed from a night spent at the club and chilled from the December air?

And now that illusion had simply shattered, like a fragment of broken glass. He was back in the waiting room again, waiting, hurting too much—and yet feeling as though he had no right to. His pain was nothing compared to what she was going through. He should be doing something, anything, to make himself useful, to not succumb to the weight of his own helplessness.

When the doctor finally approached them, Spencer almost knocked over his chair in his haste to stand. The doctor, however, focused solely on Jude as he delivered the update, leaving Spencer questioning whether he even existed.

“We managed to stop the bleeding. That’s the good news,” he began, his dark eyes unreadable—at once cool and concerned, with the practiced composure characteristic of people in his profession.

“Thank God,” Jude whispered, rubbing her chest as if trying to calm the frantic beating of her heart.

Spencer, on the other hand, felt no relief. Not even a sliver.

"‘That’s good news,’" he repeated the doctor’s words, drawing the man’s gaze to him. ‘But… but is there something bad?’

That brief moment before the doctor answered felt longer than nearly the past two hours of waiting.

“Due to suspected brain swelling, we had to induce a coma.’

“What?’ Jude mouthed silently. “How… how could she be in a coma? Why? Was that necessary?’

“They needed to reduce the intracranial pressure,’ Spencer replied, the words spilling from his mouth without him even realizing he was speaking. ‘The coma prevents further damage and minimizes the brain’s oxygen consumption. But will she… how long will she…?’

“Only for a few days,’ the doctor assured him, understanding the question he couldn’t quite form. “As long as there are no further complications or additional bleeding. But I can reassure you for now: there’s no indication of that. Her condition seems stable. She was… incredibly lucky. It was a serious accident—a miracle, a sheer miracle—that she didn’t break her spine.’"

For a moment, he couldn’t utter a single word, his throat still tight, and the relief never came. He knew he wouldn’t feel it until he saw her, fully conscious and awake. Until that happened, he would grimace every time he heard the word miracle. 

"When will I be able to see her?" he asked, surprisingly calm and composed. The question was so important to him that his voice didn’t tremble even once. In fact, it was the only thing that mattered right now.

"You’ll need to wait a few hours before visiting. We have to make sure there’s no risk of a sudden deterioration in her condition. Also, only authorized individuals can visit her."

The last part of the doctor’s statement felt almost like a slap in the face.

"How many hours?" he pressed, impatience creeping into his voice. "Two? Four? Six?"

"Please, calm down," the doctor asked, making a gesture with his hand.

“Eight?”

His voice grew increasingly sharp, desperately demanding an answer. The doctor opened his mouth to respond, but Jude interrupted with a question.

"As an authorized person, can I, on behalf of the patient, allow him to visit?" she asked, catching Spencer’s gaze for a brief moment before quickly turning away. "She would want this, I know it."

The doctor shook his head in refusal, providing them with a few more details about the surgery before turning to leave. Spencer watched him leave, something in him wavering between a sigh and a snort. So they wouldn’t even let him visit her? He understood the hospital procedures and rules perfectly well, but when it came to his own case, he hated them with all his heart. They wouldn’t allow him to see someone who meant so much to him, simply because they weren’t bound by blood or a ring on his finger. A ring on his finger… maybe he should lie and say they were engaged?  Although, would it really make any difference in the eyes of the hospital staff?

Before the loose fragments in his mind began to form a plan, he noticed that Jude was staring at him. She had sat down again, pressing her back tightly against the chair's backrest. She hadn’t cried for a while now; a certain relief had settled on her face when she heard the surgery had been successful, but then the old devastation returned, stronger than ever before.

"I won’t be able to visit her," she said, her voice hollow. "Not even while she’s unconscious. And when she wakes up, look her in the eyes. Tell me, how could I do that after everything? After all of this was my fault?"

Spencer turned away and walked off.

He knew that if he didn’t, something inside him would break. He couldn’t stop the anger he felt toward Jude. From what he knew, she had repeatedly refused to report her ex-boyfriend to the police, perhaps more or less aware of the danger he posed. She had the right to do so, theoretically. But that didn’t change the fact that someone else had suffered because of her foolish decision.

In his eyes she deserved the guilt she felt.

Not knowing what to do with himself, he found a place far from her, far from anyone, where he spent the next few hours, hardly moving. Sometimes he observed the relatives of other patients in the hospital, also broken, but he had some selfish feeling that even they wouldn’t understand what he felt. He placed himself on some distant, elite orbit of suffering and felt almost embarrassed by it. 

Pain always makes sure that a person feels as lonely and misunderstood as possible in it. That is when it has the most power over them.

He kept away from the windows, the darkness outside, slowly losing its intensity, putting him into a state of shock and contemplation. Maybe time was a relative concept, but that didn’t change the fact that it existed. Somewhere far away, there was light beyond this waiting room.

For some time now, he had been occupied with a certain task. He was aware of the hours passing and how, with them, his desperation grew. He felt he would go mad if he didn’t see her. The designated time during which the patient should be ensured complete rest after surgery had ended, yet he knew they wouldn’t let him in to see her. But he had a brain for a reason, right?"

He found the room where everything that mattered to him at that moment was. A young doctor was just leaving.

"Excuse me, ma'am,” he approached her politely, trying to appear calm, though his appearance and trembling hands clearly suggested otherwise. “I need to visit this patient.”

“Are you a relative?”

“No, actually…” He knew this was a desperate move and resorting to a lie, but he didn’t care. What was morality in his situation? Just a word. He reached for the badge he had with him and cleared his throat. “I’m with the FBI. I’ve been assigned to see this particular patient; it’s a matter that cannot be delayed."

Believe it or not, but people often lost their minds at the mere mention of the FBI. Spencer suspected that such a young doctor might have some gaps in experience and not know what procedures were in place in such a situation.

The surprised woman took a half step back.

“But she’s in a coma…” she said uncertainly, turning toward the room. “Are you sure it’s this patient?”

“Absolutely. And as I said, there’s no time to waste.”

He didn’t put his badge away, still holding it raised, with a serious expression on his face, as if he were interrogating someone. It was clear she was torn with doubt, but fortunately for him, she decided to give in without consulting the decision.

Spencer almost ran into the room, unable to hold back his impatience any longer. At first, he felt as if in a dream, one where you achieve your greatest goal. However, it quickly turned into a nightmare, all because of what he saw.

Whatever he had imagined, he was not prepared for this sight. 

Especially because before he even noticed her face, the face he was so desperate to see, he first noticed everything else surrounding it. The hospital equipment, the machines and devices monitoring her vital signs. The wide orthopedic collar tight around her neck. The sterile whiteness of it all, obscuring her and making her almost disappear against its backdrop. It wasn’t until he approached the bed, his legs weak and unsteady, that he started to look at her, but again, not specifically at her, but at the injuries. The sight of swollen temples, the sunken eyes, pale and dry lips, skin like a sheet of paper. Every injury on her body caused him unimaginable pain, so intense it almost stopped him from breathing. He felt so much anger and injustice that she had to go through this that he almost wanted to fall to his knees and apologize to her, beg for forgiveness. For what? He couldn’t decide. It wasn’t a need driven by logic, it was something deep inside him.

And that’s what he did, even though there was a place beside the bed where he could sit. He slowly knelt down, his hands touching the edge of the bed, but not her body. After all, he wasn’t about to risk causing her any pain due to his lack of control. But he had such an overwhelming desire to take her hand, the one whose fingers shyly peeked out from under the cast.

"I should have gone with you," he said, after about five minutes spent in complete silence, undisturbed even by his breath, which he was holding back. "I should have. Walked you to the door and made sure you got inside safely. I’m sorry…"

He felt that with his pitiful apologies, he was disturbing her peace. She needed it to fully rest. So, he fell silent again, alternating between looking at her with furrowed brows in tender concern and resting his forehead against the edge of the bed whenever the sight became too painful. While before, time seemed to crawl at the slowest possible pace, now it was racing forward wildly.

In his perception, barely a minute had passed when someone’s presence appeared behind him. He turned over his shoulder, noticing the young nurse who had let him in, and it took him a long time before he even realized it. After all, he had lied to her, saying it was some professional matter, yet she had found him kneeling by the hospital bed.

He quickly got to his feet, nervously rubbing his face.

“For the patient’s well-being, no visits should last longer than twenty minutes,” the woman said surprisingly gently, leaning slightly against the door with her shoulder. An unidentified expression lingered in her eyes, making them seem...warm.

He didn’t answer, just nodded. He no longer felt the need to play that little charade that had helped him get inside. He allowed himself one last long moment, looking at her face, peaceful in sleep. He passed the doctor in the doorway, feeling her eyes turn to him, and he did the same, out of curiosity. She smiled, sadly and with compassion.

"This had nothing to do with any FBI assignment, right?”

Her understanding seemed almost touching. However, Spencer, caught in the moment, quickly withdrew, once again making his way down the hospital corridors, now completely unsure of what to do with himself. He leaned against one of the walls, slowly feeling the fatigue from the entire night spent waiting to see her. He found his phone in his pocket, realized it was already morning, and that… Hotch had called him.

It was a quick collision with the outside world. He called back, as nothing else came to mind that he could focus on.

"Reid," the serious voice of his boss came through on the other end. "Why aren’t you at work, and why aren’t you answering?"

He needed to take a breath before he could respond.

"Sorry, Hotch," he said, trying not to sound weak, but that’s exactly how he sounded. Weak, a little pitiful, and on the verge of exhaustion. "Something... something really important happened, and... I... I won’t be able to come in today..."

Spencer realized he had no idea how to explain himself in this situation.

"I can’t remember the last day you were even late. What happened?" He didn’t answer. "Where are you?" Silence. "Spencer."

"It’s... a personal matter."

There was a brief silence from his boss, and Spencer could almost imagine how he furrowed his dark brows in confusion.

"I understand." His voice was tense, but not with disapproval, which surprised Spencer. More with... concern. Had he managed to read the seriousness of the situation just from his voice? Probably, after all, he was the best profiler Spencer knew. "You’ll need to explain later, but for now... take care of yourself. Do you need any help?”

He assured him insincerely that everything was fine and found an empty chair to sit in, hunched over. A strong pressure formed in his head, amplified by the helplessness and uncertainty about what he should do next. She was in a coma, and according to the doctor, she would be in it for the next few days. And what was he supposed to do during that time? He felt that physically, he could spend another hundred hours on that specific chair. Occasionally stretching his legs. It was his plan, one that seemed more real with every passing minute. At least, until a figure cast its shadow over him.

"Reid," a familiar voice spoke.

He looked up, surprised, at Morgan. His mouth was slightly open in confusion, his forehead deeply furrowed.

"What are you doing here?"

"How... how did you know where I was?" That was the first thing that came to his mind.

"Penelope. How she knew, I have no idea, but I’m starting to suspect that her joke about having us all chipped wasn’t really a joke. But anyway, what’s going on? Hotch told me you called, and you sounded... unsettling."

His friend was watching him closely. His wrinkled clothes, his tired face.

"So... Hotch sent you to find me?"

"Reid, you’re our friend. Did you really think we wouldn’t be worried about you?"

Spencer lowered his head, listening to his words. Derek was silent for a moment, his hands resting on his hips, his tense face scanning the surroundings. After a while, he focused his gaze back on him.

"Who is the person you’re visiting?"

He hesitated before answering, not because he didn’t want to share the information, but because he wasn’t sure how to refer to her. What should he call her? After all, it wasn’t like they were in an official relationship, and the word friend seemed to leave something unsaid.

“Someone... someone very important to me. She had an accident. She has... a cervical spine injury, and the doctors, suspecting brain swelling, decided to put her into a coma for a while.”

Morgan's eyes widened.

“Damn, Reid. I’m so... I’m so sorry.”

He sat down on the empty chair beside him, his face still showing shock. Exhausted, Spencer simply rested his head on his knees, no longer able to keep his posture straight. He felt drained, yet at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to leave—couldn’t leave her…

Morgan’s hand fell onto his back, and finally, then sighed.

“Come here, man.”

With a firm pull, he drew him into an embrace.

Spencer found it hard to admit, even to himself, how much he needed this. No words left their mouths for a long while; only that brotherly, supportive embrace remained between them.

“Have you seen her?” Morgan asked after a while.

He confirmed, but didn’t reveal the circumstances. His friend paused for a moment, as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.

“Okay, listen to me. You need to get back to yourself.”

Spencer scoffed and shook his head, ready to argue.

“Let me finish. I know you don’t want to leave her right now, but with all due respect, you look like death. You need to eat and get some sleep.”

“I can’t,” Spencer replied firmly.

“You’re going to collapse soon. You said she’ll be in a coma for a few days. You won’t make it sitting here, think realistically. No one’s asking you to go back to work, you just need to rest.” He looked at him seriously, knowing how hard it would be to convince him. Finally, he sighed once more. “Do it for her, alright? Do you really think she’d want you to wear yourself out like this?”

He had no ready answer for that. Well, he did, but it sounded like no, she wouldn’t want that.

“I’ll take you home. For God’s sake, you came here without even a coat?”

It's a strange feeling to let someone take care of you. Completely. Derek not only drove him to his apartment but also came inside with him. There was no emotional discussion between them, which he found to be a relief. Silent support, he thought.

His relationship with the other team members had been tested after Emily's death—or at least, that's what he had thought up until now. He had begun isolating himself, not wanting to intrude on their grief or burden them with his own problems. But in reality—something he hadn’t seen until now—it had been the opposite. It strengthened their bond.

The next few days revolved mainly around hospital visits. Somehow, he had managed to gain visiting rights, and the time spent by her side filled him with a certain sense of calm. He could see how stable her vital signs were, and he clung to the doctors’ reassurances that she would regain consciousness in just a few days.

He once read a series of articles and interviews with people who had been in comas. Their accounts sometimes contradicted medical facts and often included embellishments, but a significant number of them mentioned remembering the voices of loved ones and certain sounds.

He didn’t want her to remember only the sounds of medical equipment from this period. But he also wasn’t sure what he could talk to her about. Would she want to hear about the overly salted carbonara that Garcia had forced an entire pot of on him? Or about the abstract mural being painted across from his apartment—something he was sure she would have liked?

In the end, he decided to read to her, though choosing what to read proved challenging. Sleeping Beauty seemed too ironic, even though she would probably laugh about it later. She had once told him Girl, Interrupted was her favorite book, but its hospital setting made him suspect she might prefer something that let her escape this place, even if only in her imagination. The Silence of the Lambs referenced one of their past conversations, but if a doctor overheard him reading it to her, he would surely be banned from visiting altogether.

“All right,” he began one day, sitting down in the chair by her bed. “I know you’re not a big fan of fantasy. And yes, you’ll have every right to call me out on this when you wake up. But still, I hope you’ll like it.”

Arabian Nights was a collection of tales and stories originating from the Middle East, India, and Persia. Somehow, he assumed that the mysterious, often nocturnal atmosphere might resonate with her, even soothe her. After all, night had always been her favorite time of day—the backdrop to so much of her life.

That day, as he was about to leave, he leaned slightly over her bed, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"Tomorrow, I'll read you a romance, how does that sound? But I’ll have to go to the bookstore because, despite your beliefs, I don’t have any in my collection. I wish I’d had more time to get to know your reading preferences better."

During none of his previous visits had he touched her, afraid it might disturb her peace in some negative way. Besides... in the state she was in, she looked so fragile and delicate that he feared even the slightest touch could hurt her. But that time, he simply couldn’t hold back. After a long internal struggle, he placed a very brief kiss on her forehead.

Spencer couldn’t keep his promise. While he did buy a romance novel recommended to him with enthusiasm by a young bookstore clerk, he never had the chance to read it to her.

The next day, he received a message. 

She had woken up. 

*

You didn’t remember much.

Only fragmented scraps. The memories began with a brief moment of complete physical helplessness, a terrible pain in your neck, and a series of flashing lights mingling with raised voices—even shouting. Then came silence, vile and terrifying.

But that wasn’t the end. Something came after the silence.

Softly spoken stories. For some reason, they were comforting. In your mind, only a few blurred images remained—no clear events or words. What you remembered most was that soothing, calm voice. It felt like an embrace, like warm bedding, the first rays of cosmic light piercing through clouds, or the gentle chill of evening air.

It was… beautiful. But it couldn’t last forever. After an indeterminate amount of time, your body decided to reject that comfort and tried to open its eyes. It was an excruciating effort. You sighed with the strain. The first colors and surreal shapes began to appear before you. Slowly, you started to become aware of your existence, yet at the same time, you felt suspended somewhere outside your body and mind—alone and terrified.

The sensations were both faint and overwhelmingly intense, making you want to hide, to somehow cut yourself off from them. Yet you were equally afraid to close your eyes again. You muttered things that made no sense. You remained in this panicked state until two tiny brown points hovered above you, widening with concern. Only then were you able to calm down—at least enough to stop straining your body with attempts to move. Attempts, because your body seemed entirely unwilling to follow your commands.

The fear buried itself deep within you, drilling into your chest. At first, it suffocated you, but eventually, it began to weaken and fade.

This was how the first hours after waking from the coma unfolded.

Weakness, disorientation, mumbling, pain, discomfort, and light sensitivity.

It took a long time before you regained awareness of being in a hospital. Even more time passed before you remembered why. And then, your own condition and state.

You were so incredibly weak that it filled you with disgust, terrified by how much effort even the smallest movement required—like the twitch of a finger or the blink of an eye. Frustrated by it all, you cried, and he cried too. But his tears were born of relief and joy.

Those two specific emotions reached you the latest—only after they transferred you to a different ward, and your thoughts began to clear. Relief and joy. Hand in hand with fear and anxiety. 

It felt so unreal, yet it was real—real like nothing else, and it held you tightly, exactly the way you needed it to.

*

Spencer was aware that her awakening was just another step in a very long journey.

His medical knowledge, modestly speaking, was fairly extensive, and he understood the gravity of the injuries she had sustained. Their first meeting after she had opened her eyes for the first time was nothing like a scene from a movie. She was confused, still drowsy, and as she slowly started to comprehend everything, she was primarily terrified. Her body, after the time spent in the coma, though brief, was extremely weak, and every little movement exhausted her as though she had just run a marathon.

The fear on her face pierced his chest.

He had the impression that none of the words he spoke, almost whispered in an attempt to calm her, were having any effect.

"I... I can't move," she stammered as one of the first things she said. Her eyes intensely focused on his face, searching for safety in it, and he feared he wouldn't be able to provide it for her.

"It's just temporary," he reassured her gently, leaning over her bed and trying to smile, but it came out uncertain, he was too worried about her condition. "The doctors say so, and that's the truth. Your body is just very weak right now."

"Will... will it be like this forever?"

"No, no, it will pass. I promise, it will pass," he nodded fervently. She hesitated and took a breath, as though discovering an entirely new action. But as soon as she did, out of fear, it became fast and irregular. He was terrified that his touch might cause her pain, but he didn't know what else he could do to help her. Gently, as gently as he could, he placed his hand on her cheek, barely grazing it with his thumb. "You'll feel better soon. Really, it won’t be long now. For now... just don’t overexert yourself, please, breathe."

At first, she flinched. He wanted to withdraw his hand as quickly as possible, but then he felt her press her face against it, almost nuzzling into it. A shy tear danced in one of her eyes, barely noticeable.

"It’s good to see you," she said after a brief silence, a soft sigh escaping her lips—almost like a laugh, though it didn’t quite make it. Her breath was still shallow and uneven, but with each passing moment, it seemed to steady as he held her close.

And in that moment, seeing her like that, feeling her presence so close, a smile spread across his face—a smile so genuine, so long-awaited—and with it came the tears he’d been holding back for what felt like forever.

"I feel the same," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You have no idea how much."

*

The orthopedic collar pissed you off like nothing else.

It wasn’t even the discomfort that bothered you, it was just... the collar was such a painful reminder of your condition, a testament to what you had been through. And you were supposed to wear it for another six to eight weeks.

Two weeks after waking from the coma, preparations for leaving the hospital were beginning. The risk of brain swelling had subsided, the injuries were healing, and the concussion still made its presence known, but the pain was no longer as intense. You could even have a normal conversation, which you seized almost immediately, striking up a chat with the teenage girl in the bed next to you, her sad expression tugging at your heart.

Few people visited you; you preferred that the two most important ones could spend as much time with you as possible, rather than inviting coworkers or acquaintances you hadn’t spoken to in months. The two most important people.

Spencer had been with you since the moment you woke up, and as the doctor confessed to you with a small smile, he had also stayed by your side while you were in a coma. You were in shock. Not because he had done it—it made perfect sense, given his caring nature. The shock came from the simple fact that one person could care so deeply about another, about you.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that the moments when he visited you became your favorite part of the entire day. And not just because they revolved around checking your condition, tests, and the first, incredibly light rehabilitation exercises. You simply found yourself waiting for the moment he would appear in that doorway again, holding his coat in hand, smiling.

"Hello, handsome stranger," you greeted him one day, the first day you were starting to feel better.

 Spencer stopped at the sound of that term, tilting his head with an even wider smile.

 "How else did I used to call you?" you mused aloud. "Ah, I used to call you Mr. Mysterious. But I suppose that's no longer fitting, you smile too much to seem mysterious."

 "Because I have a reason," he replied, stopping beside your bed and glancing at the flowers placed there, the ones that had greeted you when you woke up that day. "But in that case, 'Handsome stranger' doesn’t fit either, since you know me now."

"But you are handsome. Half of it fits, so I have the right to call you that. Who... who sent me these flowers?"

"Better question would be, who didn’t send you those?" he muttered, referring to their large number. You could only admire them—the beautiful, colorful arrangements—but you hadn’t had the chance to read the notes and messages attached. Spencer glanced at one of them, his smile fading, though not in a bad way... somehow, the expression that appeared on his face was even more pleasing than his smile. "This... this one’s from my team."

You were simply speechless.

 "They... they even know I exist?"

 "Of course they do, how could they not?" Spencer paused for a moment, looking at you thoughtfully. "They... they were with me the whole time you were in a coma. They helped me keep my head together."

 "Don’t exaggerate," you tried to dispel the sudden serious mood. You didn’t want to delude yourself into thinking he had been that worried about you during that time. 

 "It’s not an exaggeration," he replied briefly and seriously, his face almost motionless.

For a moment, you fell silent, your hands resting on the blanket in front of you.

 "Sorry, Spencer. I just realized I’ve never thanked you for this..."

"What?" he asked, surprised, his brows furrowing. "This isn’t something you have to thank me for..."

"But I feel like I have to. This... this isn’t some small, silly favor. You really did so much for me... I still don’t fully understand why..."

 "You don’t understand why?"

"Yeah," you sighed uncertainly, not sure how to put it into words. "Don’t get me wrong... I’m so grateful to you, it’s just... look at it this way. We didn’t know each other that long, we saw each other rarely. We slept together once. It’s not like you were…obligated to help me."

"I didn’t have to be obligated to do it," he said after a moment of hesitation, circling your bed and sitting on the edge, just barely touching it. "And I didn’t have to know you for years. I just wanted to do it because of how much I cared about you. And if that explanation doesn’t convince you... then..." He swallowed hard. "Remember, you were there for me during one of the worst moments of my life."

“It’s not the same...”

 “Oh, but it is. For me, it is. But I don’t want you to think that I was there for you because I felt like I owed you something. Or that I had to... I don’t know... repay you in some way. That’s not it at all.”

You didn’t answer, something tight gripped your throat. You just tilted your head, overwhelmed with emotion, speechless. The only thing you truly wanted to do was stretch out your arms and drape them around his neck, resting your chin on his shoulder. Spencer sighed, surprised and tense. It wasn’t until a brief moment passed that his hands gently touched your back.

“How much longer are you going to act like I’m made of glass?” you asked.

You knew his caution was justified, but Jesus. You just really wanted to hug him properly.

“Probably forever,” he replied, to which you rolled your eyes.

He was the one to break the hug, but in compensation, he quickly kissed the top of your head. You leaned back against the bed, feeling a pleasant sensation in your stomach. Spencer returned to the flowers to tell you who had sent them all.

“So these are from my team,” he picked up the lost thread, pointing to the arrangement of white and pink carnations. He chuckled. “And I’m pretty sure Penelope picked them out, not just because her name is listed first. White represents perseverance and strength. Pink stands for admiration and respect.”

“That’s really thoughtful. And beautiful. I’ll have to thank them. And these tulips?”

Spencer took the note attached to the mentioned flowers between his fingers.

“From... Jerry.”

“What? My husband sent me flowers?”

 “What?” He jerked his head up in surprise.

You laughed so hard at the look on his face that it made you wince in your ribs.

 “I’m fucking kidding, you fool,” you replied, clutching your side with a groan. “Jerry is the librarian. You should know him. He once asked me what flowers he should buy for his wife, and I suggested yellow tulips. By the way, it's so nice of him”.

You said it affectionately, but it sounded incredibly weak. Along with the pain in your ribs, a headache joined in, and suddenly all the energy you'd had earlier evaporated.

“What's happening? Should I call a doctor?”

“No,” you shook your head in refusal. “I just need to lie down for a moment. Come here.”

Spencer followed your request and sat beside your bed, his body a little stiff, as if in guilt.

"I'm sorry I made you laugh."

"That's probably the strangest thing you could apologize for," you muttered, lying down in the position that was best for your neck, one you almost hated as much as the orthopedic collar. "Well, I guess I could come up with something stranger. Sorry I left that million dollars in your nightstand. It won't happen again."

"I'm not sure if this kind of chatter is particularly good for your condition."

"It helps me mentally, and that's what matters most. Besides, stop complaining."

"How could I possibly dare?"

He fell silent, simply watching you with quiet concern. You closed your eyes for a moment, unsure if you might accidentally drift off. After spending a week in a coma, your sleep routine had become completely erratic. You slept through the nights, mostly because there was little else to do, and you didn’t want to disturb the other patients in the ward. During the day, Spencer would visit, and you wanted to be as rested as possible when he was around.

When he wasn’t there, you sometimes napped during the day as well. According to the doctors, it was one of the best things you could do for your recovery—sleep and rest as much as your body needed.

"Is something bothering you?" he asked.

You hesitated for a long moment, because yes, something was weighing heavily on your mind. Had he guessed, or had he read it on your face?

“It’s just…” you began with a sigh. “You know Jude barely visits me? I mean, she shows up every day, but… she’s so tense and distant when she’s here. She doesn’t say much, and she won’t look me in the eyes.”

"She’s blaming herself," Spencer said softly.

“God, that’s so stupid,” you muttered.

You had a strange relationship with the accident. You thought about it as little as possible, keeping it at arm’s length. You knew Richard had been arrested, but you didn’t want to know the details of his sentencing. In no way did you see any of it as Jude’s fault, and it hurt you deeply to think that she did.

You spent a quiet moment together before Spencer leaned over you again, intending to kiss your forehead.

“I’m sorry, but I’ll have to go now,” he said, to which you nodded in understanding.

But then you shifted your head, pulling back just enough to stop him from brushing his lips against your forehead. He looked at you, puzzled, since you’d never minded it before.

This time, though, you wanted him to kiss you on the lips.

He kissed you slowly. You had almost forgotten how he tasted.

After that, you didn’t bother opening your eyes again. You let yourself imagine that he wasn’t leaving at all, and with that comforting thought, you drifted off to sleep.

*

Spencer had felt strange since the morning.

 Energized and excited. In the absolute best possible way.

That day, he could finally take her home. Well, to his apartment. She needed someone to take care of her, and he felt honored to be that person.

The day before, he had made a very important, yet difficult decision. He invited JJ over and confessed everything to her—about the past few weeks and his struggles with relapsing into addiction. He needed to rid himself of that burden. Besides, he had promised himself that as long as she was living with him, not even the smallest dose of Dilaudid would find its way inside. Never again.

In his worst moments, he imagined that his friend would react with disgust—pure, painful disgust—and push him away. Instead, her eyes filled with something strange the moment he began to speak about how he had felt after Emily's death. Over and over, she whispered apologies, as though she were the one responsible for it.

He still missed Emily, of course, and he knew he would always miss her. That was just the way of things—people left, and it was up to you to decide whether you would remember them with heartbreaking despair or with a wistful sigh. In fact, these were merely two ends of the same spectrum, and it was very easy to get stuck at the beginning, unable to move forward.

She was surprisingly quiet in the car and seemed depressed. Actually, it was hard not to blame her. She had spent a long time in the hospital, gotten used to that routine, and the change made her feel lost. Sitting in the passenger seat, she kept her gaze fixed ahead, but not on the road. She couldn’t see where they were headed, which made it difficult for Spencer to tell her something… at least important.

 When they stopped, she furrowed her brow in surprise.

 “Why are we here?”

They were parked under his apartment, and she had been under the impression they were heading to her place.

 “Sorry, I should’ve told you earlier, I really apologize,” Spencer blurted out in one breath, chaotically. “I absolutely realize that this is like putting you in a situation you didn’t expect, but… but when you were in the hospital, Jude found herself a new roommate. She didn’t really know how to tell you, but she had to do it because she couldn’t afford the rent on her own.”

For a long moment, she stared at him in silence, her face a mixture of shock, followed by understanding. She took a deep breath.

 “Okay,” she muttered. “I understand her, I just… I don’t understand why she didn’t tell me this herself.”

Their relationship still remained deeply complicated, put to the test by guilt. Spencer couldn’t say much about it. It was something between the two of them, and he hardly knew Jude at all.

 “I’m also sorry for asking you this so late,” he continued after a moment. “But… you can’t live alone, you know that. Someone… someone needs to be with you over the next few weeks and… I’m willing to be that person.”

Her lips remained slightly parted for a moment.

“You want… no, wait, you want me to move in with you?” It was clearly a rhetorical question, because before he could answer, she started shaking her head. “Spencer, I can’t. I can’t be that burden for you.”

“A burden? You’re not…”

“But I will be. In the next few weeks, I definitely will be.”

He took his hands off the steering wheel, placing them loosely on his knees.

“Can you… can you look at me for a moment?” he asked.

It took a moment before she hesitantly met his gaze. Her eyes were filled with embarrassed tears, tears full of unjust shame. Seeing this, pain spread through his chest.

“If the accident hadn’t happened, would you want to live with me?”

 Her lips remained pressed together, and she sighed.

 “It’s a big decision. Aside from the fact that if it weren’t for the accident, I wouldn’t even have to consider this option…”

“I just want to know if you would want to. Don’t think of it as an option, just as… a completely normal, life decision. Do you think you’d be able to handle having me around every day?”

She couldn’t help it, and her lips curled into a slight smile.

“We could try,” she finally replied.

Spencer straightened his arms.

“In that case, let’s go inside.”

 “No, wait, it’s not that simple! My opinion shouldn’t matter; it’s you who needs to think about whether you want this…”

 “I do.”

She snorted, resigned, not knowing what else to say.

“I can’t even tie my own shoes,” she tried one last time.

“I’ll gladly do it for you. What’s more, I know all kinds of knots. Simple, sailor’s, Chinese…”

“Spencer Reid, you’re impossible.”

For the rest of the day, she tried every possible way to talk him out of his decision. But when she finally accepted it, she struggled to accept his help with tasks she couldn’t do on her own.

 It wasn’t until later that he realized how much she had been pretending in the hospital. He had only seen her for a fraction of her day, and she seemed so positive then. But this temporary disability had really taken a toll on her mentally. He could repeat and assure her, completely sincerely, that she wasn’t a burden to him, but deep down, she still believed otherwise.

So, when two days later, she timidly appeared in the bedroom doorway with the question of whether he could help her wash her hair, Spencer felt like he had won the lottery.

“Sure,” he agreed, probably a bit too enthusiastically, jumping to his feet so quickly that he almost tripped.

She pretended not to notice.

In the bathroom, he slowly helped her pull the shirt over her head, careful not to catch it on the collar still around her neck or accidentally cause her any pain. 

“Be careful not to tilt your head too much, okay?” he asked, wetting her hair with the showerhead. She closed her eyes when a few drops of water splashed onto them. “Sorry!”

“For god's sake, Spencer, you're doing it more carefully than I would have done myself.”

It was true; he was acting as if he were performing some task at work that required absolute precision. He shrugged, massaging the strawberry shampoo into her hair. Foam quickly appeared, smelling sweet.

Suddenly, her hands tightened around the front of his shirt.

“Sorry,” she whispered, loosening her grip. “I got a little dizzy.”

Spencer immediately pressed his hands, still covered in shampoo, to her waist, afraid she might fall. He stared at her face for a long moment, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

And just then, her body suddenly went limp, falling forward.

Terrified, he let out a strangled cry.

“Hold on, please, don’t fall!” he kept repeating, doing everything he could to keep her upright.

Her hands hung limply on his shoulders, the foam and water soaking into his shirt, but he didn’t care at all.

“I’m right here, hold on to me as much as you can. C-c-can you hear me at all?”

He wondered whether it would be better to stand her up or lay her down while he could get to the phone and call an ambulance, when suddenly her weak touch grew stronger, and she let out a soft groan.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t you dare apologizing. I’m still holding you, can you hear me?”

His heart was pounding incredibly fast as she gently pulled her head away from his chest. He, of course, didn’t let her stand on her own, constantly supporting her body, protecting her from a fall that could be disastrous.

Together, they left the shower cabin, her hair still covered in foam.

“Are you aware that this is how it’s going to look now?” she asked seriously.

Completely unfazed, he wiped the foam from her forehead, which was dangerously close to her eyes.

“I’d rather have you lose consciousness in my bathroom, right next to me, than risk… I don’t know, cracking your head open.”

For a moment, she was silent, the color beginning to return to her pale face, her gaze becoming more alert. He had a strange feeling that she was about to start crying, and since he really didn’t want that, he pulled her close again, in his usual protective gesture. Everything around them smelled of strawberries.

“Do you really have to be this good?”

Spencer snorted.

“I’m afraid it’s just my curse.”

*

“Are these people really arguing about whether a cucumber is a fruit or a vegetable?”

Sitting on the couch, you jumped when a voice spoke right behind you. At the last second, you caught your laptop before it slipped off your lap. You had been reading some absurd discussion on an online forum you stumbled upon completely by accident. And yes, these users were indeed arguing about whether a cucumber is a fruit or a vegetable.

“Damn it, Spencer!” you shouted, putting your hand over your heart, which was pounding in an agitated rhythm. You looked at your boyfriend with a scowl. “You almost gave me a heart attack. How is it possible I didn’t hear you come in?”

He shrugged. Leaning his elbows on the back of the couch, the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt revealed the skin of his forearms. In that position, he had a perfect view of the screen on your laptop. He had just returned from work, a rainy July evening, his hair slightly damp.

“I wasn’t sneaking around. You must’ve just been lost in thought. Want to tell me what’s occupying that beautiful mind of yours?” He leaned in to place a kiss on your temple.

“Beautiful mind, huh?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Just a few days ago, you told me that if a 19th-century priest heard even one thought from my head, he’d go into anaphylactic shock. Whatever that was supposed to mean.”

"In a big simplification, what I meant is that even though I love you, sometimes your way of thinking scares me."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"By the way, I bought land for Alexander."

Alexander was your new flycatcher, which had grown so much that it completely prevented the other flowers on the windowsill from growing. Due to its conqueror tendencies, you decided to name it after one of them.

"Do you want to repot it into a new pot now...?"

"No. Now you need to come to me."

You set the laptop aside and waited for him to take a seat on the couch. Before fully snuggling into him, you untied and removed the tie from his neck, then unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, just the way you liked.

You sighed almost instantly; his body was more comfortable than a pillow. Warm, with your favorite scent. You rested your head on his chest as his fingers gently combed through your hair.

In the first few weeks after you were discharged from the hospital, you couldn’t even sleep in the same bed. There was a risk that, in his sleep, he might accidentally bump into your neck and cause damage. Spencer enforced that rule strictly, as he did with every precaution related to your health.

Six months had passed since the accident, and for the past four months, you hadn’t worn a neck brace or needed help with daily tasks. But that didn’t change the fact that, sometimes, when you showered together, he would wash your hair just like he used to. Anyway, you were still attending rehabilitation and would need to for a long time, but despite that, you felt like you had fully returned to normal life.

You lifted yourself slightly to look at his face.

"I was walking to the bar today," you began.

You’d been considering going back to work for a while now, and the doctors had assured you there was no reason you couldn’t. You wanted something to occupy your hands and craved the sense of purpose that came with a task. You’d mentioned it to Spencer long ago, so he didn’t seem surprised when you brought it up.

"And? Will they take you back?"

"No. I mean, it’s not that they don’t want to, I just didn’t get there. That’s why I said I was walking and not that I went to a bar. Are you following?"

"I'm trying."

"So, listen to this. I took the subway and got off at that station near the room I used to rent."

The landlord had asked for the keys back shortly after your accident. Your arrangement had been that, in exchange for using the space, you cleaned it daily. Of course, you hadn’t been able to keep up with that anymore.

"...And I don't know, I was overwhelmed by this strange feeling, like I wanted to go back to it. Helping people."

"You help people all the time," Spencer reminded you. "All our neighbors come to you to vent about everything happening in their lives."

"That's true, but I mean, you know, professional help," you said, taking a deeper breath. You couldn't decide whether you were more excited or nervous about the decision. "I've been thinking about going back to uni, Spencer."

He straightened up, almost causing you to slide off his chest. Filled with tension, you watched his reaction closely. You’d spent the entire day wondering what he might say. Would he share your enthusiasm and support your plans, or would he try to talk you out of it, reasoning that you’d dropped out of school once and might not manage it again?

These thoughts were incredibly silly. Spencer—knowledge-obsessed, ever-curious Spencer—would never say something like that.

Instead, he pulled you into a tight embrace, whispering how incredible the idea was. You melted into it completely, feeling more elated than ever and unable to stop thinking about the crazy chain of cause and effect that had led to this specific moment, this particular relationship, and above all, this exact happiness. 

do you accept this overly sweet ending as my apology? :> tagging: @nightfullofparadox @lillaberry @fortheloveofgubler @opheliahotchner @cowboy1ikereid @penelopegarciaismygf

sorry if i forgot about someone!

[issues4him]

𐙚 late for class

IN WHICH - you & draco are late for your defense against the dark arts class - you just can't stop shagging 🫣

warnings - 18+ smut

draco x reader

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“dray…” you giggle against his lips as his turn upward into a smile. the both of you have been non-stop snogging all day. he’s had his wandering hands on your body for hours. you’ve somehow been finding yourselves ending up back in his bed every so often. maybe something was just in the air.

“hm?” he mumbled against your skin, his unclothed-body flush against yours, moving his kisses down to your neck. you two look like you’d been shagging for hours- which may or may not not have been false. your hair was a tangled mess, his skin red and sweaty.

“i think we’re gonna be late to dark arts..” his tongue moves up the side of your neck, latching his mouth onto your ear lobe, giving it a light bite. he sneaks his fingers back down to your pussy, playing with your wetness.

“i doubt it, baby, what time even is it?” he asked, teasing his tip over your pussy, clearly wanting to get back in.

you glance at your clock beside your bed-1:47 p.m.

“oh fuck!” your heart sinks, “its 1:47, draco, class started at 1:30!”

he looks at you with wide eyes. you both scramble out of bed, desperately trying to find your clothes that were scattered all over the dorm. your skirt was on the table, shirt on goyle’s bed, underwear in the middle of the floor… you were starting to realize you two may have been doing a little much.

draco nearly trips over his own feet getting his trousers on. “where the bloody hell is my shirt?!” he yelled, frantically looking around the room, still trying to buckle his belt.

“babe, it’s in here!” you yell out to him from the bathroom- which also happened to be wear your tights were.

he runs into the bathroom with you, quickly buttoning up his shirt. once, you both look… presentable… you scurry out of his dorm room, practically running to the classroom.

you round the corner and attempt to quietly open the door. the desks were already nearly full. snape turns his head and looks at you both with a mixture of annoyance and disgust.

“mr. malfoy, miss y/l/n. what an honor. did you have any particular reason to be late to my class?” he asks, monotone voice feeling louder than ever.

draco froze in place, staring at snape. you could’ve given a dozen different reasons, all of them more believable than the truth. he looks at you quickly, then back at snape.

“we- we lost track of time, sir.” he said, face turning a quite noticeable shade of crimson.

quiet snickers were heard from around the classroom, draco gave them a glare.

the silence was deafening. snapes glare was burning holes into you both.

“sit. you’ll both be given detention.” he turned back to his chalkboard explaining his lesson.

you groan, walking to desk. draco sits next to you, noticing your frustration.

he squeezes your thigh, “i’d get detention a thousand more times for how we spent our day,” he smirked.

you rolled your eyes and spent the entire rest of class daydreaming about how you two spent your friday. you couldn’t wait for this evening. after detention, of course.

[misspelledwordswizard]

Some forms of courtship of male wolves are to adopt dominant postures, like show their teeth or they may give gifts such as meat or bones, all to impress the female

I like to think that Twilight unconsciously does something similar, he stands at attention around you, puffs out his chest a little, if he hunts an animal he makes sure to pass close to you so you can see it, finds nice things around and leaves them in your stuff, etc

It's all about you, he wants your attention and approval so much unconsciously that he's like a puppy, If you want, he can lie on his back in front of you (act of submission or surrender) Just so you understand how much you have him wrapped around your finger, But please tell him he's doing everything good 🥺

I really like this, this idea itself is very good, and maybe it's because I like it so much that it was so difficult to do.

It took me a long time to get around to writing something about it, because all the ideas didn't seem good enough, and I still think it didn't turn out the way I wanted. But here it is!

Instincts

The Rancher approached me, with something in his hands, crouched down in front of me, where I was sitting, extended his closed hand towards me and opened it, revealing a golden ring with a blue stone in it. 

— What is this? – I asked, confused about why he had it, and why he was showing it to me, and not about what the object itself was. 

— A ring, I found it in a chest. It’s for you. – He answered, still with his hand extended, offering me the ring. – As soon as I saw it, I thought of you. – He concluded with a sweet smile on his lips. 

That made me smile too, it was really nice to know that someone thought of me seeing something like that, especially when that someone is Twilight. This feeling has been following me constantly for the last few weeks, I feel strangely silly when he’s around, and it feels like I’m going crazy, because I’m starting to think that maybe this could mean something more coming from him. This is probably just my deluded mind seeing things, but it makes me happy. 

I accepted the ring, he didn’t seem willing to give up on the idea of ​​me wearing it, and it fit perfectly on my ring finger, it felt right to be there, and it was really very beautiful.  Satisfied with that, the blond stood up and turned his attention to something Time had said, but I hadn’t heard it, as I was too focused on the present to notice the things around me. 

I sighed and hoped that no one was around to hear my silly act of a little girl in love, especially the Veteran and the Captain. I got up from the place I had been sitting under the shade of a tree. It was still morning, some of the boys had gone out to explore the surroundings of the place where we were camping and had just returned, as had Twilight. This ring was probably found in the surroundings. And now, he, Time and the Champion were going to hunt for our food. There wasn’t much to do. We would be staying here all day to replenish our supplies and regain our strength, as the next city was still far away. 

I went towards where Sky was sitting, he was sculping something on a small piece of wood, which ended up catching my attention.  I sat down next to him and was greeted by a kind smile. He seemed to understand my curiosity, because before saying anything he showed me the object he was working on. It still looked very unfinished, almost shapeless, but I was able to recognize that it was a bird. 

— It’s a hobby of mine, it helps me to distract myself.  

— I liked it, it’s really cool, but it seems difficult. You’re talented. – I replied, enchanted by the manual work, I wanted to know how to do things like that, it would be great to give as a gift.  

— Do you want to try? I can teach you if you want.  

— Are you sure? I won’t get in your way? – He just laughed at my question.  

— No, of course not, it will be fun!  

That was enough to convince me, after all, I was already very tempted. Sky gave me a square piece of wood that I could make whatever I wanted and asked me to choose something to carve. I thought for a moment, but soon a perfect image came to mind. He helped me mark the shape on the wood, and then he showed me how I should use the tools.  

It took a while for me to get the hang of it, but soon I was in the mood and we were both working on it, focused, taking advantage of this quiet time to talk.  He told me about his Zelda, and how he used to make her these cute little gifts. There came a time when we just talked about whatever came to mind, without much concern. 

Until the hero stopped talking, and something covered the sun behind me, creating a large shadow. Sky looked at what was behind me, looking surprised and confused, mostly confused, which made me look back too. And there he was, standing, at his full size, carrying a slaughtered boar on his shoulders with a certain pride, with his clothes even a little stained by the animal’s blood, Twilight. For some reason, he was just standing there, without reacting, staring at his brother with something that looked like a frown, which only made the situation stranger and more confusing. 

— Well, if you’ll excuse me, I needed to talk to Time, now that he’s back. – Sky said, getting up from his seat and leaving, with an expression that looked like understanding. 

I could see the wolf boy’s posture relax drastically, and finally, when Sky left us, his gaze turned directly to me, with a big smile on his face. I stood up, putting my unfinished work in one of the pockets of my belt, and turning my attention to him. 

— I got this. – That was all he said, keeping his proud smile on his lips, making me smile with his attitude. 

— Impressive! I’m sure the Cook and I will be able to make something very good out of this. 

His smile faltered for a moment at my words, but then he just nodded in agreement, satisfied for some reason. 

— Yes, I’ll help you. 

— Oh, no need, you’ve already done great at that. 

— No, it’s okay, I want to help you. 

I ended up just accepting that, so I went over to where Wild was to prepare lunch. He didn’t take too kindly to the idea of ​​the Rancher helping, saying there wouldn’t be much for him to do, but his insistence ended up winning the argument. He ended up only being left with the task of cutting the meat, in the end, but that seemed good enough for him. While the Champion and I took care of the rest and talked, he kept staring at his brother with that same weird frown. What’s gotten into him? 

After we did most of the work, all that was left was to wait until the meat cooked, so Wild released us from the task. I went to a corner to read, and for a moment, I thought Twilight would follow me to that corner, if he hadn’t been called by Warriors, making him sulk again. It’s a shame, I really wish I had his company right now. 

 I didn’t see him again then, at least not until now. After lunch I spent the rest of the afternoon going back to work on the wooden sculpture, I wanted it to be perfect. This was good, because it distracted me for hours, when I saw it, it was already getting dark, the boys who were out, for unknown reasons, returned, including my wolf boy, who came straight towards me, ignoring any calls from his brothers.  

He threw himself down next to me, resting his head on my shoulder and sighing. Poor thing, it must have been a tiring day for him. I put my work, now finished, aside and moved so I could look at him better, making him raise his head, attentive to my movements. I put a hand on his cheek, I felt hypnotized by his beauty, and it hit me even harder when I saw him melt into my hand, smiling. That was, until his smile died, for some reason, leaving me worried. Did I do something wrong?   

Before I could ask him anything about it, he pulled me into his lap, making me squeal in surprise, and pulled me close to his body, hugging me tightly in a protective manner. I couldn’t be more confused, but I’m definitely not complaining. 

— What’s wrong? – I asked softly, and he took a moment to answer, looking thoughtful. 

— You still smell like Sky. I’m taking care of it. 

I didn’t know what to say to that, I didn’t imagine that I could smell like someone else like that, but there was no point in contradicting him about it either, after all, Twilight’s sense of smell is definitely quite sharp. I sighed, relaxing against the strong man’s body with a goofy smile on my face. What a good day. 

— Oh, I have something for you! – I said, picking up the sculpture I had been working on, which was shaped like a wolf, or rather, Wolfie, and handing it to him. – Sorry, it didn’t turn out very well, I’m still learning. 

He held the gift carefully, analyzing it, looking surprised. Then he pulled me closer, giving me a tight hug and burying his face in my neck, I could feel him smiling against my skin. 

— Thank you, dear. – He said, looking me in the eyes again, and placing a warm kiss on my right cheek. 

[enemiestolovershoe]

Silent Tension

Matt Sturniolo x enemie!reader

Summary: Matt and Y/N were best friends until one argument turned them into enemies. Will they ever find a way back to each other?

Warnings: arguments, fighting, making out, lmk if you find anything else.

Words: 5.2k

The kindergarten days felt like a lifetime ago now. Back then, the four of you were inseparable. Matt, Nick, Chris, and you were a perfectly chaotic little crew, spending recess planning adventures and sticking together against anyone who dared mess with one of you. Matt had been your closest match back then—quick-witted, stubborn, and full of ideas. You thought that bond would never break.

But high school changed everything.

It started small, with arguments over who got shotgun during group rides. Then came the endless bickering about group projects and plans. By sophomore year, the fights had escalated into something sharper, something mean.

“You can’t just do everything yourself,” Matt said one night, frustration thick in his voice.

“It’s not my fault you can’t handle it!” you snapped back, shoving a notebook into your bag after another group study session gone wrong.

Nick, sprawled on the couch with a soda in hand, raised an eyebrow. “Uh-oh. Here we go again.”

“You’re such a control freak,” Matt muttered, crossing his arms.

“And you’re lazy,” you shot back without missing a beat.

Chris, ever the calm one, stepped in. “Alright, that’s enough. Can we focus? This isn’t helping anyone.”

But Matt wasn’t done. “You think you’re better than everyone else because you plan everything to death. Newsflash: it’s annoying.”

“At least I don’t sit around waiting for other people to pick up the slack!”

“Guys, please!” Chris sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’re giving me a headache.”

Nick grinned, throwing a pillow at Matt. “Yeah, cool it, bro. You’re scaring Chris.”

By junior year, the tension had spread beyond school. Group hangouts became a minefield.

One night at the mall, Matt and you ended up in yet another screaming match over something stupid.

“All I’m saying is, we didn’t need to spend an hour waiting for you to pick out a stupid hoodie,” Matt said, throwing up his hands as the group headed back to Nick’s car.

“It wasn’t just about the hoodie, Matt,” you snapped, glaring at him. “Maybe if you weren’t so impatient, we’d actually enjoy going out as a group.”

“Impatient? You’re the one who wasted everyone’s time.”

Nick piped up from the backseat, turning to grin at Chris. “Think we should start selling tickets? This is better than reality TV.”

Chris shot Nick a look. “Not helping.”

“Whatever,” Matt muttered. “Next time, just leave me out of it.”

“Gladly,” you said, slamming the car door behind you.

The ride home was silent, the air thick with unresolved anger.

Then there was the infamous beach trip during senior year. What should’ve been a relaxing day turned into yet another battlefield.

“Can you at least try to help with the setup?” you asked, struggling to hammer an umbrella into the sand while Matt sat under the shade of a nearby tree, scrolling on his phone.

“I’m supervising,” he said with a smirk, not even glancing up.

“You’re useless,” you muttered under your breath, loud enough for him to hear.

“Excuse me?” Matt stood up, his tone sharp.

“You heard me.”

Nick and Chris exchanged a look, already bracing for the explosion.

“Maybe if you weren’t so bossy, people would actually want to help you,” Matt shot back.

“Maybe if you weren’t so lazy, people wouldn’t have to pick up your slack,” you retorted, standing toe-to-toe with him now.

Nick broke the tension with an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, Mom and Dad, can we chill? Some of us are here to, like, enjoy the beach.”

Chris stepped between you two, his voice calm but firm. “Seriously, stop. This is getting old.”

You stormed off, muttering under your breath about how impossible Matt was. He didn’t try to follow.

By the time you were 21, things were worse than ever. Group events had become rare, mostly because no one wanted to deal with the inevitable clash between you and Matt.

At one game night, the tension boiled over again.

“Can you not cheat for once in your life?” Matt snapped as you reached for a card in a particularly heated game of Uno.

“I’m not cheating, you idiot. Maybe if you paid attention, you’d actually win for once.”

Chris sighed from his spot beside you, his patience clearly wearing thin. “It’s a card game. Can we not turn this into World War 3?”

Matt ignored him, leaning forward with a scowl. “You always do this. You can’t handle losing, so you find some way to bend the rules.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Perfect. I forgot you’re the expert on everything.”

Nick laughed, shaking his head. “Man, y’all really need couples therapy.”

“Nick, shut up,” you and Matt said in unison, which only made him laugh harder.

Chris stood up, clearly done. “Okay, game night’s over. You two can keep fighting, but I’m not babysitting anymore.”

As Chris walked out of the room, Nick looked between you and Matt with a smirk. “So, who’s gonna admit they’re in love first?”

You threw a pillow at him. “Nick, I swear—”

Matt scoffed, crossing his arms. “As if.”

“Exactly,” you snapped, glaring at him. “You’d be the last person I’d ever—”

“Good! Glad we’re on the same page,” Matt interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Nick laughed again. “Man, you two are exhausting. But, like, in a fun way.”

Chris peeked back in from the hallway, his calm voice cutting through the chaos. “You’re not fun. You’re a headache. Both of you.”

As the tension settled for the night, you couldn’t help but wonder how it had come to this. Somewhere along the way, the friendship you once had with Matt had turned into a battlefield, and neither of you seemed willing to wave the white flag.

It was a sweltering summer afternoon, the kind that made everyone irritable. You’d come over to hang out with Chris and Nick, hoping to escape the heat and distract yourself from a long week. Matt, as usual, was there too.

From the moment you walked in, you could feel the tension. It was always there with Matt—humming under the surface, waiting for one of you to ignite it.

“Alright, who’s down for a Mario Kart tournament? Loser buys slushies,” Nick said, grabbing controllers from the cabinet.

Chris nodded. “I’m in. But Nick, you’re buying either way.

Nick grinned. “Bold of you to assume.”

You grabbed a controller, feeling a flicker of competitiveness. “Hope you’re ready to lose, Nick.”

Matt, leaning against the counter, crossed his arms. “You should worry about yourself. You’ve never beaten me.”

You rolled your eyes. “There’s a first time for everything.”

The game started off fine—until you accidentally bumped Matt’s character off the track.

“Oh, come on!” Matt exclaimed, leaning forward. “You did that on purpose.”

“It’s called strategy,” you shot back, grinning.

Matt’s scowl deepened as the race continued. When the final lap ended, your character crossed the finish line ahead of his. You threw your hands up triumphantly. “Yes! Finally!”

Matt tossed his controller onto the couch, glaring at you. “You only won because you cheated.”

You blinked, the excitement draining from your face. “How did I cheat?”

“You bumped me off the track,” Matt said, his tone accusatory.

“That’s part of the game, Matt,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“No, it’s not,” he snapped. “You’re always like this—always cutting corners to get ahead.”

“Cutting corners?” you repeated, standing up. “It’s a stupid game. Maybe if you weren’t such a sore loser, you’d actuallyhave fun.”

“Oh, I’m the sore loser?” Matt said, getting to his feet as well.

Nick, sensing the brewing storm, raised his hands. “Alright, time out. It’s just Mario Kart, guys.”

Chris sighed, already rubbing his temples. “Can we not?”

But the two of you were locked in now.

“You always do this,” Matt said, his voice rising. “You act like you’re better than everyone else, but you’re just as petty as the rest of us.”

Your jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me? You’re the one making a big deal out of this!”

“Oh, because you’re so perfect, right?” Matt shot back, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “You can’t handle being called out, so you turn it around on me.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so impossible to deal with!”

Chris stood up, his calm demeanor cracking slightly. “Seriously, enough. This isn’t worth fighting over.”

“Stay out of it, Chris,” Matt said, not taking his eyes off you.

Chris frowned but didn’t argue.

“You know what your problem is?” Matt continued, stepping closer. “You’re so controlling. Everything has to be your way, and if it’s not, you freak out.”

“I’m not controlling,” you snapped. “I’m just tired of cleaning up after you all the time!”

Matt scoffed. “Cleaning up after me? You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

Nick tried to step in again, his voice light but firm. “Guys, seriously, take a breath. Go outside or something.”

But it was too late. The fight was spiraling.

“Don’t I?” you said, crossing your arms. “You’re lazy, Matt. You never help with anything unless someone forces you to, and then you complain the whole time.”

“Oh, I’m lazy?” Matt shot back, his voice sharp. “At least I don’t bulldoze over everyone like you do. You think you’re so much better because you plan everything to death, but really, you’re just scared of messing up.”

Your chest tightened, his words cutting deeper than you expected. “Wow. Thanks for the insight, Dr. Matt. Maybe if you spent less time tearing me down, you’d actually accomplish something for once.”

Matt’s face darkened. “Tearing you down? You’re the one who’s always on my case. Every little thing I do, you have something to say about it.”

“Because you make it so easy!”

“You know what? I’m done,” Matt said, throwing his hands up. “You’re exhausting. No wonder people can’t stand being around you.”

“Excuse me?” you said, your voice trembling with anger. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Matt didn’t back down. “It means maybe your ex had a point.”

The room went silent.

Chris and Nick both froze, their eyes snapping to Matt in disbelief.

“What did you just say?” you asked, your voice low and unsteady.

Chris stepped forward, his voice firm. “Matt, don’t.”

But Matt ignored him. “Maybe your ex wouldn’t have cheated on you if you weren’t so suffocating.”

Your stomach dropped. Tears pricked your eyes as his words sunk in. “You’re unbelievable.”

Chris immediately stepped in, standing between you and Matt. “That’s enough. You’ve crossed the line.”

Nick’s voice was louder now. “Matt, what the hell is wrong with you?”

But Matt wasn’t done. “I’m just saying what everyone else is too scared to say.”

Your hands shook as you struggled to hold back tears. “You’re such a coward,” you said, your voice breaking. “You can’t handle your own issues, so you take them out on me. Well, congrats, Matt. You finally broke me. Are you happy now?”

Tears streamed down your face as you turned away, unable to look at him anymore.

Chris stepped forward, his calm voice laced with anger. “Go to your room. Now.”

Matt hesitated, glaring at you one last time before storming off, slamming his door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Chris turned to you, his expression softening. “Hey, come here.”

You let out a shaky breath as he pulled you into a hug.

“Why does he hate me so much?” you whispered, your voice cracking. “What did I do to make him like this?”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Chris said softly, rubbing your back. “He’s just… an idiot.”

Nick grabbed a glass of water and handed it to you. “Yeah, a massive idiot. Like, the biggest idiot I’ve ever met.”

You tried to laugh, but it came out as a sob. “I can’t keep doing this, Chris. Every time I come here, it’s like he’s waiting to tear me apart.”

Chris pulled back, cupping your face gently so you’d meet his eyes. “Listen to me. You didn’t do anything wrong. He’s just angry—at himself, at whatever—but it’s not about you.”

“Then why does it feel like it is?” you whispered, tears still streaming down your face.

Chris sighed, pulling you back into a hug. “I don’t know. But I’m going to fix it, okay? I promise.”

Nick sat beside you, patting your shoulder. “Yeah, and if he doesn’t apologize, I’ll pants him in public.”

You let out a weak laugh, wiping your eyes. “Thanks, Nick. That’s… oddly comforting.”

Chris stayed by your side, his calm presence steadying you as you tried to piece yourself back together. But no matter how much he reassured you, Matt’s words lingered, cutting deeper than you wanted to admit.

About an hour had passed since the fight, and the tension in the house still hung heavy in the air. You were curled up on the couch with Chris, his arm draped protectively over your shoulder. Nick sat on the floor in front of you, scrolling through his phone and cracking occasional jokes to try and lighten the mood.

You’d stopped crying, but your chest still felt tight, your breathing shallow. Every time you thought about what Matt had said, it was like the wound reopened.

Chris’s hand absentmindedly rubbed your arm. “You good?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, though you didn’t feel entirely okay. “Better. Thanks for… you know, being here.”

“Always,” he said softly.

Nick glanced over his shoulder with a faint grin. “If you need me to distract you, I can pull up Matt’s senior photo. That thing’s a crime against humanity.”

You let out a weak laugh. “Thanks, Nick. I think I’ll pass.”

Just then, footsteps sounded from the stairs. Matt was coming down, his movements hesitant but deliberate.

Your stomach immediately twisted into knots, and you stiffened against Chris.

He noticed immediately. “Relax,” Chris whispered. “You’re safe.”

Nick, sensing the shift, turned to Matt with a warning look. “If you’re coming down to start something again, you can turn right back around and go upstairs.”

Matt shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m not here to fight.”

You looked at him warily, unsure of what to expect.

“Actually,” Matt continued, his voice quieter than usual, “I wanted to talk to Y/N. Alone.”

You stiffened even more, your breath catching in your throat. “What for? So you can tear me apart again? Bring up my past and rub salt in the wound?” Your voice cracked, still raw from earlier.

Matt winced, his jaw tightening. “No. I’m not here to do that. I… I want to apologize. But I’d rather do it one-on-one.”

Chris’s grip on your shoulder tightened protectively. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” he said, his calm tone carrying a slight edge.

“Yeah,” Nick chimed in, crossing his arms. “She’s been through enough today. Whatever you need to say, you can say it in front of us.”

Matt shook his head. “Look, I get it. I’ve been a total dick, okay? But I need to fix this, and I can’t do that with you two hovering.” He turned to you, his gaze earnest. “Please, Y/N. Just give me five minutes. I promise, no fighting. No bringing up the past.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding. You didn’t trust him—not after everything—but there was something different in his tone. He didn’t sound like the sharp, defensive Matt you’d been clashing with for years. He sounded… vulnerable.

Chris’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

Nick nodded. “Seriously. You’ve got nothing to prove to him.”

You hesitated, your gaze flicking between Matt and his brothers. Part of you wanted to shut him down, to tell him to leave you alone. But another part—the part that was tired of the constant fighting—wanted to hear him out.

You let out a shaky breath. “What do you want to talk about?”

Matt glanced at the door, then back at you. “We still need to grab those slushies. We can talk on the way there. Neutral ground.”

Chris frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I’m not going to do anything,” Matt said, his voice firm but not aggressive. “I just… need to talk. Please.”

You looked at Chris and Nick, then back at Matt. Against your better judgment, you slowly nodded. “Fine. But if you say anything—anything—like what you said earlier, I’m leaving. Got it?”

Matt nodded immediately. “Got it. No low blows. I swear.”

Chris sighed, his hand lingering on your shoulder as you stood up. “You sure about this?”

“No,” you admitted, your voice still shaky. “But I’ll be fine.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Text me if you need a rescue mission.”

You gave him a faint smile. “I will.”

Matt grabbed his keys and held the door open for you, waiting as you slipped on your shoes. Your anxiety bubbled in your chest as you stepped outside, the warm summer air doing little to ease the tension in your body.

You glanced back at Chris and Nick, who were watching you like hawks from the couch. Chris gave you a small nod, his silent way of telling you that he had your back no matter what.

“Let’s go,” Matt said quietly, leading the way to his car.

As you got in, you couldn’t help but wonder what he was going to say—and if you’d regret giving him the chance.

You slid into the passenger seat, the car’s interior thick with unspoken tension. Matt climbed into the driver’s seat, closing the door with a quiet click. He rested his hands on the steering wheel but didn’t start the engine. Instead, he leaned back, staring straight ahead, his jaw tightening and loosening as if trying to find the right words.

Finally, he broke the silence.

“I am so fucking sorry, Y/N,” Matt said, his voice low but steady. “I don’t even know where to start. I—I don’t know what got into me earlier, but I regret it. Deeply. More than I can even put into words.”

You turned to look at him, studying his face. There was no trace of his usual anger or smugness. He looked… tired. Defeated.

He let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. “I was out of line. Way out of line. What I said about your past, about your ex—it was cruel, and it wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve that. Not then, not ever.”

You stayed quiet, unsure of what to say, but he continued.

“The truth is… I’ve been carrying around all this anger for so long. At first, I thought it was because you were always pushing my buttons or calling me out. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that it’s not about you at all. It’s about me. I’ve been projecting my own shit onto you, and that’s not okay.”

His hands tightened on the wheel as he glanced at you briefly, guilt etched into every line of his face. “You’ve been nothing but honest with me, and I’ve thrown that back in your face every chance I got. I don’t even know why. Maybe because it was easier to lash out at you than to deal with my own crap. But that’s not an excuse. I’ve hurt you, over and over again, and I hate myself for it.”

Your chest tightened at his words, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard.

“I guess… I’ve been jealous of you,” Matt admitted, his voice quieter now. “You’ve always had this way of handling things—like, you’re so driven, so put-together. Even when things fall apart, you don’t let it stop you. And I hated that because it made me feel like a mess in comparison. Like I couldn’t measure up.”

“Matt…” you started, but he held up a hand.

“Please, let me finish,” he said, his voice almost pleading. “I know that doesn’t justify anything. I’ve been a shitty friend. Hell, I haven’t even treated you like a friend. I’ve treated you like someone I could take my frustrations out on, and I’m so, so sorry for that. I’m sorry for all the fights, all the insults, all the times I made you feel like you weren’t enough. Because you are enough, Y/N. More than enough.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them away, unsure if you were ready to forgive him yet.

Matt turned to face you fully now, his eyes earnest and a little glassy. “I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m tired of it. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be around me, like you have to walk on eggshells every time we’re in the same room. You’ve always been there for my brothers, for all of us, and I’ve done nothing but push you away. I don’t want to do that anymore.”

He hesitated, swallowing hard before continuing. “I know I’ve got a long way to go to make things right. And I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. But I’m asking for a chance—a chance to show you that I can be better, that I want to be better. Not just for you, but for myself too.”

You felt your lip tremble as you tried to process everything he’d just said. The rawness of his apology, the vulnerability in his voice—it was so unlike the Matt you’d been clashing with for years.

Matt reached over hesitantly, his hand hovering near yours on the center console. “I mean it, Y/N. Every word. I’m sorry. And if there’s anything I can do to prove it to you, just tell me. I’ll do it.”

For a moment, you sat there in silence, his words hanging heavy in the air. Then, finally, you spoke, your voice soft but steady. “Why didn’t you just tell me all of this before? Instead of… everything else?”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Because I’m an idiot. And because it was easier to pretend it was your fault than to admit I was the one with the problem.”

You looked down at his hand, still hovering near yours, and after a moment of hesitation, you placed yours over it. His fingers curled around yours gently, as if he were afraid to scare you off.

“Matt…” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “I’m not saying everything’s magically okay now. But… I appreciate you saying all of this. I really do.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “That’s all I can ask for.”

You looked down, your thumb brushing over the back of his hand. There was something vulnerable in the air between you two, a tension that was unfamiliar and heavy but not unwelcome. For once, Matt didn’t feel like your enemy. He felt like someone who was finally trying to understand you.

“Can I…” Matt hesitated, his voice unusually soft. “Can I hug you?”

You blinked at him, taken aback by the sudden question. But the sincerity in his eyes made you nod without thinking.

“Yeah,” you murmured.

He exhaled in relief and leaned over, wrapping his arms around you carefully, almost as if he were afraid you might pull away. His embrace was warm, solid, and it took you a moment to relax into it. But when you did, you felt a strange sense of comfort, the kind you hadn’t felt around him in years.

You rested your head against his chest, and his hand came up to gently cradle the back of your head. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, his voice muffled but still so close to your ear.

“I know,” you replied softly.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, wrapped in the quiet, tentative warmth of his arms. It felt like the weight of all those years of tension was melting away, even if only for a moment.

Eventually, you shifted slightly to look up at him, and Matt looked down at you. His expression was open, more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him before. For a brief second, neither of you moved, and the world outside the car seemed to fade away.

You hadn’t realized how close you were until your eyes dropped to his lips. They parted slightly, and his breath hitched. His gaze flicked to your mouth, and suddenly, it felt like the air in the car had grown impossibly heavy.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice low and unsure, as if testing the waters.

You didn’t respond—not with words, at least. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering as you both leaned in, hesitantly at first. There was a moment’s pause, so brief it was almost imperceptible, and then your lips met.

The kiss was soft, tender, and filled with a quiet kind of desperation. It wasn’t rushed or messy; it was careful, like neither of you wanted to break whatever fragile thing had just been built between you.

Matt’s hand slipped from your back to your waist, pulling you just a little closer as his lips moved against yours. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself responding instinctively, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

The kiss deepened slightly, and Matt tilted his head to the side, his nose brushing against yours. It was intimate in a way that left your heart pounding, your mind spinning.

Without breaking the kiss, Matt reached down and adjusted the seat lever, pulling it back to give you more room. His hands settled on your waist, gently guiding you over the center console and into his lap.

You let out a soft gasp against his lips as you straddled him, your knees pressing into the seat on either side of him. His hands stayed firm on your hips, grounding you as his lips continued to move against yours, slow but deliberate.

It was new, unfamiliar, and completely overwhelming—but it didn’t feel wrong. For once, it felt like the two of you weren’t at war. You weren’t fighting or tearing each other down. You were just… there, together, in a moment that felt like it belonged to no one else but you.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been kissing Matt, but it felt like time had stopped. The warmth of his hands on your waist anchored you, and the way his lips moved against yours felt so natural, so unlike anything you’d ever expected from him.

Between kisses, Matt pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “Y/N…” he murmured, his voice a little breathless. “I don’t think I’ve ever…” He trailed off, a rare flush creeping up his neck.

You blinked at him, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. “You’ve never what?”

He let out a quiet laugh, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’ve never thought this would happen. Us. Like this. And… I kind of hate myself for waiting so long.”

His honesty left you momentarily stunned. This was Matt—your rival, the person who could always get under your skin. And yet, sitting here, holding you like you were the most fragile thing in the world, he wasn’t that Matt at all.

“Well, it’s happening now,” you said softly, a small smile playing on your lips. “And I don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you completely, but… this feels different. You feel different.”

“I am,” he promised, his thumb grazing your cheek. “I swear, I am.”

You leaned back into the kiss, this time with less hesitation and more certainty. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer as the tension melted into something softer, more electric.

“Y/N,” he whispered against your lips between kisses. “I don’t want this to stop. But… if you want me to slow down, justsay the word.”

You shook your head slightly, brushing your nose against his. “I don’t want you to stop.”

His lips curved into a faint smile before they captured yours again. It wasn’t rushed or chaotic; it was patient, deliberate like he wanted to savor every second.

But just as you started to lose yourself in the moment, there was a sharp knock on the passenger-side window.

You froze, your eyes widening in panic as you turned to see Nick and Chris standing outside the car, smirking like they’d just won the lottery.

Matt groaned, letting his head fall back against the headrest. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, his hands reluctantly dropping from your waist.

“Guess we’re busted,” you whispered, unable to stop the embarrassed smile that tugged at your lips.

Sliding off Matt’s lap, you scrambled back into the passenger seat, smoothing out your shirt and running a hand through your hair. Matt rubbed the back of his neck, looking equally flustered but unable to hide the amused smirk tugging at his lips.

Rolling down the window, you were met with Nick and Chris’s grinning faces.

“We just wanted to make sure you didn’t kill each other,” Chris said, barely holding back laughter. “We didn’t see the car drive away, so, you know, better safe than sorry.”

Nick leaned down, his grin absolutely wicked. “But clearly, you two found a different way to sort things out.”

“Real mature, Nick,” you shot back, though your cheeks were burning.

Matt leaned over the console, his arm casually draped across the back of your seat as he looked at his brothers. “Do you guys not have better things to do than stalk me?”

“Stalk you?” Nick gasped in mock offense. “We were concerned. Imagine our relief when we came out here and saw you weren’t choking each other—though, to be fair, this is definitely the opposite of what we expected.”

Chris snickered. “Honestly, I’m just shocked Y/N didn’t punch you in the face. Progress, I guess.”

You glanced at Matt, and to your surprise, he was smiling—not the smug, teasing smile you were used to, but a genuine one that softened his whole face.

“You know,” Matt said, his voice calm, “for once, I’m kind of glad you two interrupted. Otherwise, we might’ve stayed in here all night.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, and you smacked his arm playfully. “Matt!”

“What?” he said, feigning innocence as he held up his hands. “Just being honest.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Well, as much as I hate to break up this little love fest, are you guys still getting the slushies? Or were you planning to sit here making out until the sun comes up?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I can’t deal with you two.”

“Hey, you chose this life,” Nick quipped, winking.

Matt laughed, and to your surprise, the sound was lighthearted, even happy. He reached for the keys and started the car, shooting a glance at his brothers. “Don’t wait up.”

“Oh, we’re definitely waiting up,” Chris said with a grin. “This is going straight into the group chat.”

“Nick,” you groaned, giving him a pointed look, “if you just type one word—”

“I make no promises,” Nick interrupted, stepping back from the car as Matt began reversing out of the garage.

As you drove away, you couldn’t help but glance at Matt, your chest still fluttering from everything that had just happened. He caught your gaze and smiled, his hand resting on the console between you.

“Still okay?” he asked softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

And for the first time in years, you actually meant it.

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

okay disjointed thoughts about the wicked movie 1 day after watching it lets go

-first of all, my movie theater put speakers outside and was just blasting the entire soundtrack on repeat. we could hear it down the street as we were driving up. that's just simply insane

-the opening establishing shots of the land were great but honestly. the very clearly animated dorothy and gang really annoyed me lmfao like I'm sorry it cannot have possibly been too hard to get a few extras to stand in front of a screen for point 5 seconds lol. it was so fast that I Know I'm being dramatic about it but they looked more cartoon than the flying monkey's did

-baby elphie and baby nessa are the cutest things I've ever seen in my life...

-I kinda...like the more human/animal hybrids that the stage show and the original movie had. sorry. like I Get they were only like that bc you can't make a real life goat sing and dance but they're just more interesting to look at than normal-looking animals who happen to talk!

-jeff goldblum's face being hidden every time he had a dance number...I have a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't really dancing lmfao

-whoever decided to bleach ariana's eyebrows deserves jail time

-when jonathan bailey first showed up on screen my mother leaned over to me and whispered 'he's HANDSOME...'

-when cynthia finished the 'wizard and I' I had to actually stop myself from applauding. it felt so weird and rude for there to be dead silence after that performance my GOD.

-also omg the part where she's singing about the wizard de-green-ifying her and the colors in the suncatchers were canceling out the green so she looked normal....inspired!

-madame morrible had these HUGE crystal ball looking rings and I just want them so much lmao

-glinda's friends were really funny the bit were she was like 'I need to lie down' and they immediately picked her up like a plank of wood and carried her off while the one was screaming 'WE NEED A PASTRY!!! IT'S AN EMERGENCY WE NEED A PASTRY!!!' had me cackling

-I wish there was more time between them moving in and 'what is this feeling' starting? like I wanted more time to see them bickering and then also more time seeing them getting along after the ball??

-'dancing through life' was BEAUTIFUL however two complaints 1) why would they cut the line 'what's the most swankified place around?' I Quote That Often and 2) at the end when glinda and elphie dance together like...it's beautiful and everything but from what I remember after their solo moment fieryo joins them?? and they have a cute three way dance moment??? and I'm very pro "they're all in love with each other" so I missed that lol

-also just in general would of liked to see more of fieryo with the girls! like it felt like ball->lion cub->emerald city, in the course of a couple days, and idk I just feel like they could have slowed it down a bit?? especially since they broke it into two movies?? like I don't think that Actually all happened in the span of a week, but they didn't do a good enough job establishing how much time was passing so it Felt like it. which is dumb bc then it just doesn't seem realistic that elphie and glinda are THAT attached to each other by defying gravity like it feels like not enough time has passed for them to really know each other

-boq felt very mild tbh I know ethan can be more unhinged than that

-would've liked to see glinda in magic class!!

-I was a little underwhelmed by elphaba's costumes? like there were clearly patterns on the material but it was all the same shade of black so you couldn't make anything out. it felt a bit flat. and I love the idea behind the freckles I agree with freckles I am pro freckles HOWEVER her's looked very obviously drawn on. like, I have seen way more realistic fake freckles before. so that was a bit annoying

-other than the lunchmeat dress glinda's costumes were good! especially loved the flower shaped one she wore to the ball

-the whole trying to escape in the hot air ballon scene was cool as hell but as the flaming remains of it fell to the ground I couldn't help but be like wow...she really just killed all those guards huh!

-also lmfao the bit in the woods with the lion club and fieryo has like a scratch on his temple. genuinely thought to myself 'is that his lobotomy scar' lmfao

-still trying to get over the part in dancing through life where people were dancing on the spinning gears in the clock tower...bitch

-the flying monkeys were correctly horrifying

-when I saw the broomstick I was like 'won't that be really uncomfortable between your legs' but then she just held it next to her like they do in the stage show and I was like....okay I guess you win that one? lmfao like I don't mind it for when she's hovering but when they had her like supersonic zooming on the broom it was weird that she wasn't actually riding it

-overall I just don't understand how it's an adaptation of act 1 but it's the length of the entire stage show?? lmao like I wish they took advantage of the split and added so much more but really really it was still just such a solid great movie. 5 stars. I can't keep talking about it right now I'm gonna start screaming.

[thisismeracing]

hii i hope ur having an amazing weekend! happy vegas gp <3

can i pls request a filipino reader dating carlos hcs (like what u did w the charles hcs) we fili cs55 girlies need more. we yearn for more 😭🙏

i looove ur work pls never disappear from the face of tumblr🧎‍♀️

hi, baby! happy vegas gp!!! <3 here you go! hope you like it *mhwa*

CARLOS DATING A FILIPINO GIRL | CS55

Warnings: mentions of food; tooth-rotting fluff; mentions of family members; not proofread.

A/n: Just a quick reminder that there are many shades, experiences, and backgrounds when it comes to Filipinos and their culture, what I am writing does not resume everything, but rather brings a piece of it to the table. <3

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee)

This man LOVES to hear you speaking Filipino. Most of the time he doesn't understand a thing, but he loves the sonority of it. It becomes a thing to read for when he's anxious. He'll pick Filipo books based on the cover or he'll stash his favorite titles but in Filipino and you'll read for him while playing with his hair;

Maybe that's how he learns a few words, by listening to you. So when you travel to meet your family, he knows the basics, and he even praises your dad on the cooking;

Speaking of food, Carlos becomes obsessed with Filipo's cuisine. What do you mean Pandesal is literally bread with salt but tastes like heaven and melts like clouds in your mouth? (He'll definitely say 'pandesal' with a Spanish accent and you think it is the most adorable thing);

His favorite dish is probably Okoy. But he loves Filipino soups and stews and will ask for them when he's sick (your nana told him she made it for you when you were young, and now he wants to experience those small things too);

Since there's Spanish influence in a lot of traditions, you both like to read a bit more about where it came from and how it used to be;

You took him to the Philippines during the Pahiyas Festival, and Carlos kept pointing to all the colors and things and saying how beautiful it looks;

There was a wedding in your family a few months into the relationship and since Sainz had already met your family they invited him. He stays glued to your side the first moments and asks a few questions that get your ears perked up, like if he could wear a Barong Tagalog or if it would be disrespectful if there could be a traditional wedding between a Filipino and a person from a different country and so on;

In the second half of the party, Carlos disappears with your siblings and cousins, to dance and make small talk with your family;

He'll definitely catch the bouquet and give it to you with the biggest smile on his face;

Carlos will suggest the Philippines as your next vacation destiny and even hint about a honeymoon somewhere there.

[kooksvspogues]

Happy 1st Birthday Lilian!! 🥳

Part 4 -

Authors note: Let me know if y’all are enjoying the slow burn with this story or have any suggestions! Would love some more input from y’all ❤️❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~ Drew’s POV ~~~~~

I know I told her I didn’t want anything more than to just be friends, but how could I not want more. The connection we had the night at the wedding was something I’ve never experienced before. She is something I’ve never experienced before. I thought I could handle being around her and keeping our deal, and I think I could’ve if Austin never showed this much interest in her. The way he talked about her when she was walking into the pool with my niece; “look at the ass on that girl, holy shit, and those boobs, jaaackpooot” he grinned putting up both his fist waiting for Chase and I to bump his, to which I just gave him a stern stare while Chase nonchalantly bumped his fist, trying to send a text.

“You know girls aren’t just a piece of ass, right?” I stared at him

“Well yeah, but it makes it so much better when they have one, ya know why I’m talking about Drew” he winks at me

“That’s my sisters friend, don’t do anything stupid” I plead

“I won’t do anything she isn’t about” Austin tapped my shoulder before getting up and joining Mack and Maddie in the pool.

I couldn’t help the pit that was forming in my stomach or the rage and adrenaline I was feeling in my entire body. I watched as she smiled up at him, but not the same way she smiles at me. She kept trying to keep her distance with him no matter what he tried, and for that, I was grateful.

Austin snatching her up before anybody could say anything to be his partner for beer pong, now that hurt. Beer pong was how we met at the wedding. She stepped up to be my partner since my buddy Paul had stepped away and she ended up being the best partner I’ve ever had in beer pong, plus, she was nice to look at too.

She had done changed out of her bridesmaid dress and into a short light yellow dress and had ditched her heels. Her curled dark brown hair was falling around her shoulders, and for some weird reason, all I could think of was the Disney princess, Belle. When I found out her name was Maddie and put it together that she was my sister’s roommate in college, I couldn’t help but me intrigued. I had heard so many stories and felt like I knew her personally but this was the first time we have been in the same area at the same time.

We won every round of beer pong we did. We laughed and flirted with each other like it was the most normal thing we’ve ever done. When we finally got done playing, we went upstairs to where the balcony was. I had untucked and unbuttoned my shirt to where it was just hanging, leaving the undershirt revealed. I sat down, leaned against the paneling,before pulling her down to sit in between my legs and lean back against my chest. Opening the bottle of champagne we snatched on the way up. That was the most comfortable I had ever been. We sat there for hours just talking about everything, what we wanted out of life, where we wanted to be in 10 years, family, kids, kid name ideas, dream vacations, just anything that come up while we just sat there playing with each others hands and passing the bottle back and fourth with the other. At one point she turned sideways and put her legs over mine while one of her hand planted itself on the wood behind us causing her to face me.

“You really are not what I expected” she admitted

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate on that, love” I teased smiling

“Just that, I have seen pictures of you, but just didn’t really expect you to be this hot in person, plus the fact that you’re insanely amazing at conversation.” She admits, her face turning a light shade of red when she makes eye contact with me

“I could say the same thing about you” I smile before leaning in closer to her, looking back and forth from her eyes to her lips. I reached up and placed my hand on the side of her neck, my thumb against her jaw just as our lips met.

“You are so beautiful” I whisper to her, feeling her smile against my lips, as she pulls her legs back to her before turning completely and straddling me, reconnecting our lips immediately.

The kiss was so deep, tender, gentle, rough, everything you could ever want in a kiss. What felt like would never end got cut short the moment I started kissing down her neck. She tapped my chest making me pull back and look up at her.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, your Mack’s brother” she says starting to stand up

“Maddie..” I say grabbing her hand

“No, let’s just pretend it didn’t happen, okay? For Mack?” She begs and I just nod slightly, watching as she takes a deep breath before running back downstairs.

Now I’ve had to watch Austin’s hand on the small of her back, lifting her up, her almost naked body against his, his hand so close to her ass and his face so close to her chest, then for him to have the audacity to place his hand on her leg right next to me.

I couldn’t do it, I can’t watch this, I can’t let her get away this time. I just need to make sure she still feels something on her end towards me before I do anything else. Which is why my feet quickly sped upstairs to her once Mack came back outside, telling everyone I had to run to the bathroom.

But, yet again, she ran away. But she also didn’t deny still feeling anything. Just gonna take some time to break through that wall, and I’m willing to do whatever I got to do.

~~~~~ Maddie’s POV ~~~~~

I walk into the downstairs bathroom, closing and locking the door quietly. Fanning my eyes, trying to keep myself from crying, but I fail quickly at that, feeling a tear fall from both eyes. I place my hands on the counter and look at myself in the mirror.

“I got this, it’s just a week of being around him, I can make that, I’m here for Liliana and Mack, that’s it” I whisper to myself before looking down at the floor shaking my head. I wipe the few tears away, open the door, and head back outside when I see Drew coming down the stairs.

“Maddie” he says

“Drew” I say opening the back door slightly

“Wait” he says just as I open the door completely and walk out “or not” I hear him mumble before walking out behind me, keeping the door cracked just incase Liliana wakes up.

Everyone else was back in the pool so I went to the edge and just sat down putting my feet in the water. A few minutes later, Drew walks over with two bottles of beer, offering one to me.

“Truce?” He asks as I look up at him

“…truce” I say grabbing the bottle as he goes to sit down next to me.

“I’m sorry” he whispers as we watch the rest of the groups playing beer pong

“It’s okay, I get it, that night was great, neither one of us can deny that, but me and you in any way, just can’t happen” I whisper to him

“Can I ask why?” He asks looking over at me with curious eyes

“Me and Mack made a promise, both of us have brothers, we knew at some point we’d meet them, and we promised that family, especially brothers were off limits cause we never wanted to jeopardize our friendship in any way” I explain quietly as he nods biting his lip, looking down at her hands right next to each other.

“I get that.. but is that real—“ He starts but I cut him off when I see Austin swimming over to us grabbing my legs, rubbing his thumb against them

“Hey gorgeous” he smiles up at me as I smile down at him slightly, “want to come be my partner again?” He asks me

“Nah, I’m good right here, I’ve done dried off” I say

“Oh okay, well if you change your mind, I’ll be waiting for you” he winked before getting called back over for his turn.

“Is that really gonna be a thing?” Drew asks looking over at me

“I don’t know… he’s sweet.. we’ll see” I confess

“Please don’t jump into something with him” he pleads

“I’ll be okay” I smile over at him

“I know, but still..” he says locking eyes with me as we just stare at each other.

“Why aren’t you looking away?” He asks me smirking

“Oh shut up” I say smiling, pushing him away making him laugh

“You can’t do that” he says in a warning tone

“Do what?” I ask furrowing my eyebrows

“Look at me like that” he states

“Like what?” I curiously ask

“Like you want me to just lean over and kiss you like we did their wedding night, like we’re the only two people that are here” he quietly explains keeping his eyes locked with mine

“Are you ever gonna give that up?” I tease him knocking my shoulder into his

“Not a chance sweetheart” he winks at me making me shake my head.

“You’re a headache” I laugh

“Just a man trying to be your headache, my bad” he throws his arms up laughing making me roll my eyes playfully

I catch Mack and Garrett in the corner of my eye looking over at us before whispering something to each other. I clear my throat and jerk the huge smile off my face looking over at the group of boys playing beer pong.

Me and Mack lock eyes and she has her arms crossed, an eyebrow raised, with a slight smirk on her face. I raise my eyebrows at her in curiosity and she just shakes her head, still smirking before looking away from me.

Great…

Chase and Austin end up leaving not too long after they got done with playing beer pong. Of course, Austin couldn’t leave without planting a kiss on my cheek. Which made me feel more weird than anything.

“Mack, can I stay here, I’m too drunk to drive home” Logan says a lot louder then needed as he wrapped his around around me planting his chin on the top of my head

“Yeah, that’s fine, Drew you staying here too?” Mack’s asked

“Yeah, might as well” he says

“Okay, y’all can take the other guest bedroom till mom gets here if you want or one can stay on the couch and the other in the bed, y’all choose.” Mack tells them, “you know where everything is, me and Garrett are going to bed” she said giving all of us a hug, “do you need anything before I go to bed?” She asks me when we she pulls away

“Oh no, I’m good, thank you though” I smile at her as she gives me a look that I can’t decipher before walking upstairs.

“Mads, can I just sleep with you, I want cuddles” Logan begs

“Why don’t you go cuddle with your brother” I tease

“That’s weird” he said making me and Drew laugh

“Here, let’s get you to bed” Drew says taking Logan’s arms off me before walking him to the guest room. I go to the fridge and grab a bottle of water before heading for the stairs.

“Hey, goodnight” Drew says at the door. I turn to face him, giving him a smile

“Goodnight Starkey” I say before going up the stairs and into my room.

I decide to go ahead and get a quick shower, wash off all of the stress from today. When I get out, I throw on a big shirt and crawl into bed. Leaning over to turn the lamp off is when I notice a note sitting on the nightstand. I grab it off the table to read it,

Maddie,

I know you say that we can’t happen and all I know as of right now is because of Mack. But, at any point you’re ready to give it a shot, I’ll be waiting, cause I’m not giving up on you. There’s nothing in me that will allow me to. Just give in to what we both know you’re feeling.

Text me - ###-###-####,

Drew

I can’t help but smile but also know deep down I can’t give in completely. Not yet. But I do decide to go ahead and add his number to my contacts, deciding to go ahead and text him so he has my number too, just incase something ever happens and he needs it.

“Goodnight again Starkey” I text him and roll over to get comfortable.

“Goodnight beautiful, glad to finally have your number” he texts me back.

I shake my head, deciding to leave it at that for right now, closing my eyes and letting the alcohol take over and hopefully giving me a good nights rest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @percysley @dilfs-4life

[carry-the-sky]

go spin the wheel, see where it lands—

Here's the thing about time: it's always running out. He felt it even as a kid, this urgency moving through him, around him. Always just ahead. He'd catch up, if everything else would just slow the hell down. But there are rules, and rule number one is that time tends to be, well, linear. Directional. Things get a bit messy when it's not.

Four seconds. That was rule number two, and the consequences for breaking it are— bad. To put it lightly.

He doesn't exactly have a choice. Or, he does, but if it's between breaking the rules or not, watching everything he loves get ripped away or digging in, claws first— well. He knows a thing or two about fighting dirty.

So, no, it's not a choice. It's immutable, like gravity. Time. A strict progression from cause to effect.

Ekko breaks rule number two.

And the line becomes a circle.

.

He thinks it's a dream, the first time. What else would it be? She fell. She's gone.

She's here now, though. Whole and happy and here, running a hand through her chopped-short hair. That single streak of magenta hits him where it hurts, square in his chest. You can't feel pain in a dream, can you?

"You're back," she says, without looking up. She's lying on her stomach, sketchbook open, a whirling kaleidoscope of color on the page in front of her. "Took you long enough."

"Was I gone?" Ekko says.

She actually laughs at that, the sound filling up his ears, warm and bright. "Benzo was starting to worry, not that he'd ever admit it. Big ol' softie." Her hand flashes, chalk sticks arcing across the page. "You seem to have that effect on people."

He shakes his head. "I don't. I'm not—"

She scribbles faster, fingers stained pink and blue and every shade in between. "You know, for a smart guy, you're kinda dumb."

"Ouch."

"I still like you, though."

This is a nice dream. Maybe the only nice dream he'll have again.

"I miss you," he says, dredging the words up from some sunless space inside him. "I didn't tell you before."

Her hand slows to a stop. From where he's standing, Ekko can only see a few snatches of detail on the page; a fuchsia smile, twin blue braids.

"I'm right here, buster," she says, not looking up. Grinning softly at her hands. "Never left, actually."

The circle wobbles, shifts out of focus. Time and space folding in on each other like paper cranes.

When he blinks, Powder is gone.

.

Too late. It's always, always too late.

.

"It's you," she says, the next time.

They're somewhere green, somewhere he's never been. A part of the Undercity that doesn't exist where he's from, that never existed.

"Uh." He blinks against the sun. "It's me, yeah."

"Seriously?" Beside him on the lawn, she pops up on an elbow, scrutinizing him. "You still don't get what's happening? Sheesh, hopping dimensions really does do a number on the noggin."

Okay, this is a weird dream. Still, as long as he keeps her talking, as long as he has sun on his skin and grass beneath him, he doesn't really care. He'll take weird. He'll take whatever he can get.

"Noggin, right," he laughs. "Synapses. Drunk slugs."

Powder scrunches up her nose like she's trying not to laugh. "Alright, I give. If you wanna dance around the giant elephant in the room, be my guest." She turns her head into her arm, a shield from the sun. Between them, their hands brush in the grass, pinky fingers tangling together. "Next time, though."

Ekko hums, content. More than that— happy. Overflowing with it. Then he frowns. "Wait. Next time?"

Paper cranes, folding in and in and in.

"Dummy," he thinks he hears her say before she disappears.

.

"So when you said 'hopping dimensions', you meant—"

"Yeah."

"And that means—"

"Yeah."

Ekko spins in a circle, arms thrown out wide. "But— how? All of this, the lab, the tech— it shouldn't exist here. Heimerdinger made sure—"

"Hey, you're the genius," Powder says. "I just live here."

Four seconds. He lets it sink in for four seconds—she's whole, she's happy, she's here, at least in this tiny pocket of space and time—before he's crossing the space between them and pulling her into a bruising hug. Her breath puffs out in mild surprise, and then she's hugging him back, arms cinching tight around him. I won't forget this. But he's already started to. He drops his head to her shoulder, breathing her in, every tiny detail. He won't make the same mistake twice.

Her eyes are wet when they untangle. Ekko swipes at his cheek to find that his are, too.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm so sorry. I thought I saved you, but it wasn't— I wasn't—"

"Don't," she says fiercely. "Don't do that. Not with me, not here. I meant what I said, okay? You're a good one, Ekko. You don't give up on people. If I'm— if the other me is— then there was nothing you could've done to change it. That was always gonna be how the story ended."

The tears are a river, streaming salt down the slope of his nose and into his mouth. "I was too slow. I'm always too damn slow."

Powder's hands are on his face, her lips kissing the salt from his cheeks, his eyelids. "The boy savior," she murmurs. "It's not your job to save everyone, you know. But I love you for trying."

She's fading, or maybe he is. Time and space, a never-ending anomaly. But there are constants, too, things that keep the universe spinning. Rules worth breaking.

He feels it, this time. It's like someone's scooping out his insides, rearranging his atoms. Like he's being wiped clean, unmade. Hollowed out so that some other him can be stuffed into his skin. Four seconds is all it takes, or maybe four million.

I love you. I love you, too.

.

He tells her for real, when he sees her again.

"I know," she says, elbowing him in the ribs. Her cheeks are dusky-pink. "Following my lead, huh?"

He looks at her, really looks. Every detail; the dainty point of her chin and the dusting of freckles across her nose and her eyes, big and bright and blue.

"Always," he says.

.

Time and space. Paper cranes, folding and unfolding, creasing the lines of reality. Some rules can't be broken, but they can bend a little.

Here's one: when you die, you stay dead.

.

He must be dreaming. She's standing right in front of him, in this dimension, on this plane of existence, real and whole and here. Her hair is still short, all of it blue.

Four seconds. He holds his breath for four seconds, and then: "Jinx."

"Hey, buster," she says.

[afreakingdork]

I saw you were doing small requests if we proved we voted for Hassan/Mikey, so here's my proof! I was wondering if you could do something with Leo, since we don't see nearly enough Leo x readers out there. I was thinking maybe a best-friends to lovers thing where they keep trying to one up each other with playful flirtation, but it becomes real in the end, followed by a confession and a kiss? Xxx

Writing Request: Reader x Leo First Kiss 😘

Thank you kindly for doing your part! I hope you're enjoying all the content and please tell your friends! Let's push back in this comp!

From now until the poll closes, if you can prove to me that you voted Hassan/Mikey in this poll then I will do any short story writing request like the one below or draw you any doodle of your choosing!

ᴰᶦˢᶜˡᵃᶦᵐᵉʳ: ᴵ ᵃᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶦⁿ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸ ᵃˢˢᵒᶜᶦᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵒʳ ᵉⁿᵈᵒʳˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵉᵗᶦᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵒʳ ᶦᵗˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉˢᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ.

We got some cutie all ages fluff down here, folks!

"And that's when you go in for the kiss!"

Leo had a fist to his lip's and nodded as if this conversation was of the utmost importance.

The random man in question who had approached you while you were hanging out with your best friend was none the wiser. You weren't sure where he had come from, but had interjected himself into your conversation without warning. He had some ripe opinions on romance that apparently couldn't wait for people he knew. Instead of running, Leo had been prompting him for the sake of it and sending you more and more exaggerated looks each time the man looked away.

"What about consent?" Leo asked.

The man reared for a moment before he thought which part. "At which part? We haven't gotten past first base."

"You gotta ask if you're going to kiss someone." Leo spoke with a firmness that you read as genuine.

"The mood!"

"Don't start." Leo shook his head.

"It ruins the mood." The man insisted.

"It does not." Leo waved him off for the first time.

"It does! You think your lady friend is going to still wanna smooch after you interrupt leaning in to ask permission!? That's not manly!"

"Manly, huh?" Leo's mask quirked with his brow. "Also, just lady friends?"

He glanced at you.

You chewed your lip and glanced away to not laugh.

"Ah, man friend, lady friend. Whatever friend! It doesn't matter!" The man huffed. "It's all the same in the eyes of love."

"Consent is hot, that's all I'm saying." Leo shrugged.

"Ah!" The man grunted and turned. "You don't get it! Oh! I bet they do!"

You both watched as the man jogged off at the next unsuspecting group of people.

"Well then!" Leo put his hands on his hips. "I never!"

He held the haughty pose until a giggle finally broke free from you and he slumped to your side.

"That was something." You told him.

"You know I really like conversations like that." Leo stuck a leg out to walk.

You followed his lead with solider-like attention. "Yeah? Seemed a bit like you were teasing him."

"Me!?" He gaped sarcastically at you before his features went lackadaisical. "Making something a gag is second nature. I really do I swear."

You thought for moment. "Okay... Why?"

"Why?" He digested the question and looked up at the buildings. "Let's see. People are interesting. They've got all these opinions and they're wild! Everyone is so different and they'll try to ask these questions about you, but they don't really want to know, but I do. Like I already know me; I want to know about them!"

It gave you pause and you thought back. In all the time you had known Leo, he had been like that. If you ever asked him something as simple as his favorite color, he would somehow turn the conversation around on you until you were matching shades in some sun room that you were going to retire in.

He made you feel like the center of the world and you loved him for it. He was bright and whip smart, but he also had an undeniable loneliness. He never let it get to him, but it made you want to get closer. You pushed to get his number after meeting him. You made sure to text him if a little too much time had gone by. You made future plans with him always included.

You became the best of friends before you even knew it.

Leo said yes to pretty much everything, even when his schedule was packed. it was his eagerness of companionship and just that he was generally a good friend, even if you found yourself mortified around him often. His wit and penchant for a bit meant that if you said the slightest thing wrong that he would hone in on it. It was further sharpened to a knife having had three brothers and because of it you had built a repertoire of inside jokes.

He was special and even just taking a walk with him on a day like today would be a highlight of your week.

"I see it." You eventually said.

"What'dyou think?"

"About what?" You glanced at him and the way the sunlight played on his barely shielded green skin.

"His pitch! That love guru's plan of attack. How to woo your lady, not lady friend."

A smile played on your lips. "Set the mood. Sure, that's good, but when's a mood, right? That's always a question."

"Exacty!" Leo threw a demonstrating hand to you. "Like is it being alone. We're alone right now?"

"Not really a mood?" You looked around.

"Should it be dark? They say those steak houses have romantic lightening when you can't even tell which fork your grabbing."

You laughed knowing what he'd say next.

"I'm telling you!" He pressed with the same knowledge. "They do it so they can give you lower cuts! That's why I always bust out the ole phone flashlight!"

"They do not!"

"I swear I ordered a rib eye but they served me flank. Flank!"

"The horror!"

"But yeah, okay so not the lights."

"Because I totally confirmed that."

"Okay, come here then."

You did so without hesitation.

"Okay, let me just..." He reached behind him to tug his hoodie off.

You watched on.

His chin caught. "Hold on." He squirmed to pull one arm through. "Hold!" It got trapped against the points of his plastron. "Wait, Wait!" His head disappeared down into the hole and you watched the blue fabric writhe.

There was no way he could see you, but when your hand came up to help he immediately scolded.

"Don't you dare! I've got this!"

You weren't sure if it was a bit or not, but that was Leo and he was nothing if not amusing.

"I got it!" In one hands to the ceiling move, his hoodie came off. "Check it!"

He flexed in his average looking t-shirt. "Very attractive."

"Thank you!" He told you with a point of his beak. "Alright, now cloud cover..."

He waved you over to a wall and you followed.

He looked you over a few times before he caged you in so he could hold the hoodie above both of you to block the light.

You stared at his red stripes in their proximity.

"Dark, how are we feeling?"

"Not really a mood."

"It's not a mood!" He cracked a grin. "We're already at the next factor."

"Oh?"

"Closeness. He said that thing about how both people realize they're a little too close and kissing is inevitable."

"Cause if that was true we would have kissed a bunch of times."

"Right?!" Leo clucked. "The Twister incident? That time I hit you with that little trashcan. Oh, oh! When you were demonstrating the banana thing and actually fell."

"That middle one..." You narrowed your eyes.

"An accident, I swear." He looked dire.

"I still think the banana was cause of the floor."

"Sure." Leo drew out the word.

You pinched the tail end of one of his stripes which also happened to be his cheeks.

He smiled all the more. "Alright then. Is that it? We've eliminated everything. Total bunk. That guy doesn't knowing a thing about romance."

"Yeah! Moods? Like what even is that?"

"Like cuddling on the couch?" Leo gagged.

"Running through the rain?" You added.

"Yeah, because I totally want to make out when I'm soggy!" His eyes rolled.

"Your clothes stick together!"

"You have to peel apart!" He shuddered and the hoodie shook as your umbrella.

You reached up on instinct to steady it right as one of the sleeves fell.

"Nice catch."

"Call me champ."

"No, I'm champ."

"You're champion."

"Your champion?" His mask waggled with his brow ridge.

"You can't count that! It was a bet."

"Oh yeah, what was last week when I got you that ice cream?"

"I was trying to be nice to you."

"Only trying?"

"You make it so easy."

"I do. I'm a great guy. Amazing friend. Easy on the eyes."

"The face of disaster. Person I would vote least likely to make a typo in front of because he will never let you live it down."

"I give you my life and my time!" He bemoaned.

"And I appreciate it."

He gave you his best puppy dog eyes. "Do you? You're just saying that. You totally said you were just saying that."

"No, you're the light of my life."

"In that voice? Maybe I'm the light from one of those nightlights that are automatic, like the kind that turn off as soon as you turn the real lights on."

You squared yourself and looked straight into his eyes.

He startled and gave you owlish attention.

"Leonardo Hamato. You are the most important thing to me. You appeared in my life and I made sure you were part of it and at some point you became someone I can't live without."

"Oh." The vowel popped out dull.

You were flooded with a wave of worry.

Had that been too much?

It was true.

You cared about Leo.

He made you laugh.

He made you smile.

He made you a priority.

You did the same with him.

It must have been all the romance talk.

He might have misconstrued the whole thing.

Certainly none of that meant anything more.

With the steam still trapped in your cheeks you met his eye.

He was staring the same intensity.

You shared it a little coy before you decided to face it head on.

You set your jaw and returned the full brunt of your certainty in the matter.

He blinked a single time. "Wanna make out?"

Your eyes went as wide as they could.

"Wait, that came out wrong!"

"Are you kidding me!?" You squawked.

"I said it was wrong! Let me-!"

"That's your idea of consent?!" You tugged the hoodie down.

Since he had his own hold on the fabric it pulled his arm.

Which pulled his shoulder.

Which pulled him closer.

You were inches away. "That guy was right! It does ruin a mood! 'Wanna make out?' Leo, what-?!"

He dropped a little lower and your heart spasmed.

He dipped down so he could look up at you through his lashes.

His gaze liquefied your insides on contact.

He held your gaze for a few calculated moments before he leaned up enough that the heat of his breath warmed your lips.

"I'm sorry. I meant, may I have the pleasure in kissing you?"

You closed the gap.

The hoodie dropped down around you for privacy.

You lost your vision and for a moment it was just you and him.

A tiny version of the world that you didn't mind.

Then, you parted.

Within the confines you heard the smack and felt the way your mouths were both open and ready for another.

"Like..." Leo licked his lips audibly. "Like that. You do it like that."

"If you tell me that was a bit I'm never talking to you again." You whined without an ounce of heat.

"I swear... Kiss on it?"

You tugged him right back to you and he smirked against you.

[insidekatmind]

Best friends- Pope Heyward

Wearning: +18, smut, cheating,english is not my first language

The soft lights of the sunset paint the horizon in shades of orange and pink as you sit on your porch, a book open in your hands. The air is crisp, with a light breeze carrying the salty scent of the ocean. You're engrossed in your reading when you hear the familiar sound of hurried footsteps on the path leading to your house. You look up and see Pope, his expression troubled and his fists clenched at his sides.

“Can I come in?” he asks without preamble, his voice rougher than usual.

You set the book down next to you, concerned. “Of course, what’s wrong?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. He climbs the porch steps, his movements quick and jittery. When he stops in front of you, you notice the flush on his cheeks and the slight tremor in his hands.

“It’s Cleo,” he says finally, crossing his arms over his chest as if trying to contain something too heavy to hold. “We had a fight. A bad one.”

You stand up, gesturing toward the door. “Come inside, let’s talk about it.”

He nods and follows you in, collapsing onto the couch in your living room. You bring him a glass of water, which he accepts with a small nod of thanks. He takes a sip in silence, then runs a hand through his hair—a gesture you know well. It’s his way of trying to calm himself down.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” you ask, sitting next to him, close enough to let him know you’re there for him but not so close as to invade his space.

He sighs, a deep and tired sound. “It started as something stupid, at least at first. We were talking about plans for the weekend, and I said I wanted to spend it with you guys, with the Pogues. She started saying we spend too much time together and that I should dedicate more time to just the two of us.”

You nod, trying to see both sides. “And what did you say?”

“That there’s nothing wrong with wanting to spend time with my friends. But then she got upset and said I never put her first.” He pauses, shaking his head. “It’s not true, but… I don’t know, maybe I messed up somewhere.”

You look at him with gentle understanding, seeing the weight he carries on his shoulders. “Pope, you know how much Cleo cares about you. But maybe she needs to feel more secure in your affection. Maybe your words made her think you don’t care enough.”

He lifts his gaze to meet yours, his dark eyes filled with frustration and pain. “But that’s not true. I do care, so much. I just… sometimes I don’t know how to show it.”

You place a hand on his arm, your touch light but reassuring. “You don’t have to have all the answers right away. Sometimes it’s just about listening to the other person and trying to understand them.”

He leans back against the couch, closing his eyes for a moment. “Why does everything have to be so complicated? I thought being with someone was supposed to be easier.”

You shake your head with a wistful smile. “Relationships are never easy, Pope. But if they’re worth it, you work to make them work.”

For a moment, silence fills the room, broken only by the sound of the waves in the distance. Then he leans slightly toward you, his gaze now softer but also more intense. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, you know? You’re always here for me, even when I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.”

Your heart beats a little faster at his words, but you try to stay calm. “That’s what friends are for, Pope.”

He offers a faint smile, a tired but genuine one. “You’re more than a friend to me, you know that?”

Your breath catches for a moment. “What do you mean?”

He moves closer, his face now only inches from yours. “I mean… I don’t know when it started, but lately, I can’t stop thinking about you. Every time I’m with Cleo, part of me just wants to be here, with you.”

His words leave you speechless. You search his eyes, trying to discern whether he’s confused or sincere. But there’s no doubt in his gaze, only honesty.

“Pope…” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I don’t want you to think I’m using you to get over Cleo. It’s not that. But tonight, when we fought, all I wanted was to come here. To be with you.”

Before you can respond, he leans in and presses his lips to yours. It’s a kiss that starts tentative, almost unsure, but as you respond, it deepens into something more intense, more passionate. His hands rest on your waist, pulling you closer, and for a moment, the world around you fades away.

When you finally pull apart, both of you breathless, he looks at you with a kind of reverence tinged with uncertainty. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

You did not let him finish because you have re-cut your lips with his. You sucked his lip whining moaning.

Pope lies you on the couch while he takes off your clothes and then takes off his.

Pope looks at you for a moment to confirm that you want to do it, and you nod.

You moaned at how big and long Pope’s dick was. He smiled and kissed you softly, then came in with a quick blow, making both of them groan.

"You’re tighter than I imagined," Pope muttered as he began to move.

You groaned and then caught your lips with him

As the impulses of Pope increased fucking you with force venting all his anger and all his passion that had at that moment.

You could only groan with force while your pussy held Pope’s cock tightly making him moan while he fucked you harder while he chewed your neck leaving spots and bruises but you didn’t care, you were enjoying and getting even more excited at the same time.

You scratched his back feeling how it was destroying your pussy and left big scratches behind his back but neither of them cared, too taken by the moment and how you were fucking so well.

"you’re fucking me so well" You whimpered and he growled as he felt your pussy tighten even more around his cock two more shots and made you come then follow you by wheel cumming inside.

"the best sex of my life" he murmured as he joined your lips with hers again.

Pope still had his dick inside you and you felt it was getting hard again and you moaned as you were watching and stroked his hair.

"Round two?" He whispered and you smiled nodding