#she’s got a little something for everyone

[frehyun]

Drowned

siren!hyunjin x afab!reader

warnings: swearing, violence, mentions of drinking, descriptions of drowning, unprotected sex (do not), monster cock, fingering (f and m receiving), oral (f receiving), creampie

genre: pirate/siren AU, found family trope, fluff, monster (?) smut, a little bit of angst

word count: 8.2k

author's note: started thinking about merman hyunjin, wanted to write a little something, it got out of hand. voilá. seriously, this is the longest thing i've ever written so i'd really appreciate to hear what you think! please let me know if there's any mistakes or if i overlooked something <3 happy reading 💙

masterlist

divider by @firefly-graphics

For as long as you lived, the sea was your home. The salty wind in your hair, the water splashing against the sides of your parent’s ship and freedom in your heart. Never have you wanted for more, the crew and everything else that was on board was always enough.

Sure, every now and then you had to get rough with other pirates or relieve some rich folk of their valuables but regardless of that, you wouldn’t change your life for the world. You never had a worry on your mind except maybe what’s for dinner that day, enjoying a nice sunbath on the deck, messing with some of the lower standing crew members that were close to your heart or going fishing with your mother whenever you were docked on some harbor.

Today was no different. Maybe a little different, since your father had tasked you with checking out one of the local rich men’s houses. Your boots carried you to the wealthy district where you earned your share of people eyeing you with disdain but you didn’t mind, smiling toothily at them and waving which just left them perplexed by your friendliness.

You whistled lowly at the sight of the mansion, gold decorations shimmering on the façade, lush greenery surrounding the entire building.

Kind of impressive.

The fence was hopped easily and you found your way into the mansion. No one was home so you figured there was no point in trying to stay low. You scanned through most of the main rooms, snatching up anything that looked valuable enough to you. With your pockets and bag full, you strolled over to what seemed to be a room where whoever lived here kept all of their valuable paintings and other art finds.

You stood in front of one particularly impressive artwork. While others would surely admire the stroke pattern, the colors used or the fascinating woodwork on the frame, you simply ascertained that the painting was small enough to carry out and still be able to run with. So you grinned to yourself as you removed the painting from the wall and leisurely made your way out of the house again.

Your steps are hurried as you make your way back to the ship, signaling for the crew to get ready to leave the harbor.

“Halt! She’s a thief!”

Oh well. Took them long enough.

You broke out in a sprint, painting secured beneath your arm. Your father was already barking out orders, readying the ship to take off as soon as they can, while some of the local police is hot on your trail.

You giggled as you climbed onboard right as the ship began its movement towards the horizon. With big motions you waved to the people left behind, all of them fuming for having lost the race against you.

-

The island was no longer to be seen, your parents were proud and your little family had plenty of stuff to sell for the next dock. You couldn’t be happier.

To reward yourself for your hard work today, you decided to lounge about in the sun. The waves rocked you until you fell fast asleep.

So deeply asleep that you didn’t wake up when the outlook yelled about another ship approaching yours.

So deeply asleep that you only woke up when the first canonball tore through the flimsy wood of the ship you called home.

Your heart was beating erratically as you struggled to make sense of your surroundings, everyone onboard in a panicked hurry. Some men running around trying to fight off the opponents that were starting to invade your space, the others below deck firing back with whatever they had, some others trying to keep the rising water out of the ship, refusing to let it sink just like that.

You grabbed your own sword and jumped to your father’s side.

“Seems like you angered the wrong gentlemen this time around!” – he laughed as his sword clashed with another.

“It was your stupid idea!” – you countered, equally finding amusement in the familiar situation and laughing.

The fight seemed to be on your side for a moment, countless stuck-up lawmen falling into the harsh waters while your side held their numbers up. But not everything always goes the way you want it to, one misstep and everything can fall apart quickly. So when the blade slashed through your side, you sucked in a breath and stumbled backwards against the railing, a man twice your size giving you the last push you needed to tip over, the cold water enveloping your whole body.

You struggled to keep your head above the waters, gasping for air but breathing in more water than anything sustainable. Your body bumped into those of others that had met the same fate as you, making the entire process of trying to stay alive harder than it needed to be. The side of your torso ached with every movement and soon enough, the strength left your limbs as you slowly but surely sunk deeper into the depths of the sea, unaware of someone that observed your descent with curious eyes.

The first thing you notice when you come to your senses again is that you feel incredibly warm.

The second thing you notice is a pair of curious eyes staring down at you.

“Oh” – he moves out of your sight before you can properly take the rest of his appearance in but one thing is abundantly clear to you: pupils should not be shaped like his, nor should eyes be as yellow as his.

You sit upright as soon as you can, wincing at the sharp pain in your side. The pain is all but forgotten when you take in the otherworldly creature sitting timidly at the edge of a stone not far from you.

He is nervously picking at his fingers while gazing at you, the space between each finger connected by a thin membrane akin to some sea creatures you know. There are tiny little scales scattered around his skin that shimmer in various shades in the light, ranging from the deepest onyx, powdery sky blue, brilliant gold and pearl white. The most alarming thing about his body is the very obvious fish tail where his legs should be, decorated in the same colors as the rest of his scales with smaller, elegantly shaped fins on the sides of it. It seemed to be longer than whatever the stories made you picture in your mind. When your gaze wanders back up his body, taking note of how the scales fade into normal skin and just being scattered here and there, you notice the gills on each side of his neck, fluttering softly with each breath he takes. His impressively broad back had another line of fins across his spine. Finally settling your gaze on his face, framed by luscious black locks, you can see he has another set of large fins on the side of his head, probably protecting his ears. His eyes shine a shimmery yellow with a fitting cat-like pupil that’s slightly dilated as he’s taking your form in. A slight blush covers his cheeks, the miniscule fins along his cheekbones fluttering.

He is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen in your life.

When he opens his plush lips to say something, you can see his teeth are a set of fangs, his canines larger and sharper than the others which seem kind of blunt in comparison.

“Do you feel pain?” – his voice comes out shyly, an underlying trill accompanying the sound.

Suddenly, you remember you are supposed to be in pain, immediately clutching the side that was slashed during the fight but finding it neatly bandaged with algae and scraps of cloth. He must have taken care of you while you were unconscious.

Surprisingly, all that’s left is a dull pain that pulsates along your heartbeat, nothing too bad. As you tell him this, he seems pleased, a proud little smile on his lips.

“You are a pirate, yes?”

“Yeah. We got attacked and then…” – you trail off and look around.

You’re clearly on some shore but it doesn’t seem like any civilisation is nearby, the air devoid of any sounds that indicate humans are nearby, just the soft crashing of the waves, the wind in the trees and the calls of animals. There isn’t any harbor, no boats in sight, the beautiful creature sitting beside you the only sign of intelligent life.

A sigh leaves your lips, already wracking your brain for any ideas on how to get back to the mainland or contact your family. For a second earlier, you thought that you found your end as you stared into the creature’s eyes. So sure were you that what you saw in front of you must have been one of the legendary sirens that your mother always told you about. Creatures that lure in pirates and sailors alike with their beautiful appearance and mesmerising voices, only to drag them into the depths of the sea, killing them.

Whatever was in front of you, curiously holding up the painting that you stole, big eyes roaming over the faded paint, couldn’t be a man-killing siren for he was far too soft and gentle to be anything like those legends said he would be.

It was honestly kind of cute watching him take in the ruined painting, completely captivated by the swirling colors, his tail gently splashing in the water in quiet excitement.

He seemed to be no threat, so you let your guard down easily beside him.

“Do you have a name?” – you ask him finally, breaking his concentration on the painting, yet he doesn’t look away from it.

“Hyunjin.”

“Well, thank you, Hyunjin. For saving me. I’m y/n.”

The tips of his ear fins flick at your admission, yet he makes no move to look at you. His fingers, with claws retracted, gently glide over the messy colors and though the original painting is near unrecognisable, far too damaged by the tides to make anything out, Hyunjin seems to find a certain beauty in the destroyed artwork.

“Do you know who made this?” – he asks and there’s that trill in his voice again that makes you think his vocal chords must work differently to yours.

“Nope. Stole it from some rich guy, he didn’t really indicate the artist anywhere. I doubt he cared.”

Hyunjin frowns at that, finally putting the painting to the side and turning to you.

“What are you going to do now? I understand that this island is less than ideal for a human but I had to get you back on land as soon as possible. You would have died.”

“I know where my family was headed and if they survived that encounter, they’ll still sail towards Port Vement. I just have to figure out a way to get there” – you let your body fall back into the sand.

Hyunjin hums and even then, the little trill you’re slowly getting obsessed with accompanies the sound. You want to hear it again. You wonder if it would be there if he sang.

“I’ll help you. I’m the reason you’re in this situation, after all.”

-

The days passed in a slog. You were mainly concerned about finding a way off of the island while staying alive, the wound you nursed on your side healing too slow for your liking.

Hyunjin had been fantastic at keeping you company and ensuring you actually survived and stayed sane. He caught fish for you with his bare hands, showing it off proudly by raising his arm in the air and giving you a toothy grin from his place in the water as you watched him, your adoration growing for him with every fish caught.

You ate together and meal times were one of the few times where you had to realise, that Hyunjin was after all part animal with the way he tore into the fish, his fangs easily making short work of the seadweller.

When you were busy building a makeshift raft out of the driftwood that you found around the shore, he’d sunbathe on one of the nearby stones, his scales glistening and shimmering in the light. Your desire to touch them grew every time you stole a glance at the sleepy siren.

Sometimes, the two of you would just lay together, exhausted from the day. Hyunjin liked it when you told him stories of your adventures around the world but it seemed that he found particular joy in the stories that focused on your little pirate family.

You would tell him of Marnie, the bear-like man in charge of the kitchen, who you swear was the softest guy you had ever known. Everything he touched turned into a delicacy and his passion for good ingredients and cooking got even you excited to try your hand at making a dish, only to end up burning your hand and the meal tasting like it had gone bad a week ago, thus swiftly ending your career as a kitchen helper.

You would tell him of Val, the outlook who loves reading more than anything ever since your mother taught him. He keeps a little box full of books he procures from the towns you visit. Val doesn’t talk much but he’s generally good company and loves telling you about the plots of his novels.

You would tell him of Arlen, a tall scary-looking guy who was in charge of keeping all of your weapons sharp and battle-ready. Despite looking so fierce and battleworn, Arlen was quite the romantic, swooning here and there over the beauty of the world.

You would tell him of Marlo, who was with you ever since you were born for he was your father’s childhood friend. Marlo lies and talks a lot of bullshit all day long but that made him the greatest storyteller on board because he could exaggerate the hell out of the tales he told.

And finally, you would tell him of your parents, who fell in love when your father was just a scrawny lad robbing a bar blind with his crew of misfits. He swept her off her feet and promised her a future full of wealth and a lifetime of love in their little family.

It was a fair exchange, because Hyunjin, after a few days of only you entrusting stories to him, started telling you of his own life.

He was born in an alcove to two very loving parents when the weather just started changing, the water slowly warming up with each day passing, the sun more happy to be out and about. He was the only one of his clutch that survived, so he didn’t have any brothers or sisters.

When he was just a little fish, his parents got caught up in some kind of conflict between a group of sirens and, in order to protect their only son, gave their lives so he could swim away.

You noticed his voice came out strained, so you silently took his hand into yours in an effort to comfort him. It was your first time initiating touch with him and he accepted it gratefully, continuing on with his story.

“I was alone for quite a while, but my parents taught me well”, he said, “until I met a bunch of other sirens, all male, which was weird, since all the other sirens I had met during my life always had females with them for one reason or another. They were weird for that but what was even weirder is that… I stuck with them for a while and they started feeling like home.”

You nodded along to his words, your thumb caressing the back of his hand in comforting motions.

“You had your own little family, hm?”, you whisper and he nods.

“What happened to them?”, you ask cautiously, not wanting to push him too far in case he wasn’t ready to share that part of the story with you yet. His gills fluttered as he took in a shaky breath, his ear fins flapping nervously as his eyes find yours.

“There was a storm and we got seperated. I don’t know where they are.”

Hyunjin doesn’t share any more stories that night.

-

A few days into your new castaway life, you figure you should change or at least clean the bandages for your wound so it doesn’t get infected. Even after diligently checking through the supplies you gathered in your time here, there isn’t an awful lot of cloth amongst it.

You sigh and look down at your clothes, already mourning the fabric.

You trudge over to where Hyunjin was lounging about. In a way, you envy him for not having to wear proper clothing. Most of what he was wearing consisted of various seashells, fishing lines and other sea artefacts that he, or one of his friends, assembled to resemble necklaces, bracelets and decorations for his tail.

If he was human, he would be quite fashionable, you think.

“Hyunjin”, you whine and he cracks open one eye to look up at you.

“Can you use your claws to cut off some fabric from my clothes for new bandages?”

He mutters a quiet ‘sure’ and sits up, making grabby hands with his sharpened nails at you. You giggle at his antics and offer him your pantleg and he gently cuts off enough fabric to dress your wound with.

The next part is kind of awkward because last time you were unconscious and the situation was quite literally life-or-death. You both sit there awkwardly, Hyunjin still with the fabric in hand, not sure how and where to move. What was acceptable? Would you let him take care of you again now that you were fully conscious?

You were the first to break the awkward tension by lifting your shirt up.

“Help me, again?” – you choke out and Hyunjin feels like jumping into the water and swimming away as far as he can. He trills something, no words coming out of him, just cute little noises, his ear fins flicking nervously.

He scoots closer to you, the base of his tail settling against your knees and despite his scales looking so scratchy, it’s a smooth, silky feel against your skin.

The old bandages and algae are taken off with ease and Hyunjin curiously eyes your wound, checking if it needs to be cleaned or any other special care. Meanwhile you feel like dying, his careful eyes roaming over your middle feels weirdly intimate and you want to burst into a million pieces at his attention.

It’s not every day that you get the full attention of a man as beautiful as him. Even rarer that someone you feel attracted to genuinely wants to take care of you. Something stirs in your heart when Hyunjin’s fingers gently trace the outline of your wound, careful to not keep them too close.

“Is this okay?” – he asks when you slightly jump at his touch and you nod back at him in a daze.

He starts bandaging you up gently, occasionally letting his gaze flit up to your face, silently checking whether you were still okay with what was happening. His own neck starts gaining color when he notices how flustered you are by his ministrations and he quickly finishes up, making sure the bandage wasn’t too tight but still snug.

“Done” – he trills and quickly retracts his hands back to his own body.

On one hand you’re glad it’s over and you can let your body relax again, on the other, you wish he would have kept his hands on you just a little longer.

-

You’re finally able to complete a safe enough raft when Hyunjin finds the last piece of driftwood that seems stable enough to hold you. While you pack all the things you had gathered for a longer journey on sea, Hyunjin tests the durability of the raft by swimming a few paces out into the ocean and hops onto it.

It seems to pass his tests and he gives you a thumbs up before bringing it back.

“And you’re absolutely sure you can swim and pull this at the same time?” – you ask from your place on the raft for the nth time that day, the anxiety gnawing at your core that you’re tasking Hyunjin with something that would end up hurting him.

“Trust me a litte, I’ll be fine!” – he grins and it’s that smile you started to love so much, one where his eyes crinkle a little and remind you of the shape of the moon on some nights. It’s a smile that usually only comes out when he’s genuine, cackling about something he finds extremely funny or something you said to him makes him so happy he can’t hold himself back.

“Alright, fish boy, let’s go, then.”

And oh boy, he’s faster than you thought, pulling you two through the tides as if you weighed nothing to him. Maybe you didn’t. Maybe sirens were extremely strong and he simply never showcased it to you as he did with so many things.

You hold onto dear life and try to navigate him towards where you think was Port Vement.

Amidst the waves rocking your little raft, the excitement and anxiety at the thought of seeing your family again rises within your heart.

What if they never survived that attack?

What if something else happened to them and they never made it to the Port?

What if they never came to Port Vement in the first place?

Such thoughts had plagued your mind ever since you started planning to go after them, only momentarily silenced whenever Hyunjin piped up with something he wanted to ask you about ever curiously or whenever the siren popped into your field of vision, effectively ripping you out of your spiral.

It’s a moment of clarity, your chest constricting at the realisation that in these few days together, you really grew attached to your unlikely acquaintance. A realisation that forces a small part of your brain to wish that you could just stay with him instead of returning to your family. Because a returnal would mean that you would have to say goodbye to him and maybe never see him again, your worlds too different to be allowed to collide for too long.

You don’t talk a lot during your travels and when night eventually falls, Hyunjin is far too tired to keep up with idle conversations. His tail is gently curled around the raft as he rests his body on the wood beside you, slumbering peacefully as the waves rock you two in a soft but steady rhythm. Your hand finds its way into the soft tresses of his hair, your fingers carding through his locks in an effort to comfort and thank him for his efforts during the day.

That fall off your ship could have easily ended in your death. A deep cut in your side, the bloodloss and the strong tides would have killed you right then and there, slowly draining your strength until there was none left.

If Hyunjin didn’t decide to help you out of the kindness of his heart, that would have been it. He didn’t need to help you or stay by your side to ensure that you had food and were safe. Probably shouldn’t have helped you if he wanted to keep himself safe.

But he did anyway. And for that you were incredibly grateful, yet you didn’t have a proper chance to show him that and it made you feel guilty. So all you could do for the moment was ensure that he was healthy and offer him all the comfort he needed.

Surprisingly, the journey was more boring than you expected. There were no storms, no complications, barely any ships nearby that could’ve been trouble for a stray girl and her equally stray siren.

When you see Port Vement in the distance, you let out a yell that scares Hyunjin so much he momentarily stops swimming to look back at you in horror.

“Port Vement, Hyunjin! We made it! You did it!!” – you excitedly celebrate and crawl forward on your raft to take him into your arms tightly. Hyunjin startles at your sudden touch but relaxes into your hold, his webbed fingers coming up to pat your back.

“I promise you, I’m gonna buy you as much food as you want, whatever you want, I’ll make it possible! There’s not enough ways in the world to thank you” – you sob into his shoulder, suddenly emotional over the whole ordeal.

He really doesn’t like it that you’re crying but having you in his arms feels so right, so comforting to his heart that he physically feels his feelings for you click into place, finally slotting into the spaces where they belonged.

“Let’s get you out of the water, then” – he trills shyly and you sniff as you settle back onto the raft so Hyunjin can pull you the last few meters.

With shaky legs you finally stand on solid ground again.

Port Vement had always been something of a safe haven for your family so it felt good to be back somewhere familiar. You tell Hyunjin you’re gonna check out the docks to see if your family’s ship is there and he promises you he’ll stay nearby watching over you in case something happened.

Your mind races as you hurry to the docks, all the questions bubbling up again that spike your anxiety. The uneven road makes you trip and bump into people passing you by but you don’t much care for their complaints as you make your way down the streets. Your heart is beating fast inside your ribs, almost painfully so, making you feel like you’re drowning again.

Everything comes to a halt around you as all your fears slip clean off your shoulders when you take in the glory that is your family’s ship. You want to break down and cry now that you finally know they’re here and safe but you knock some sense into yourself as you wrack your brain for possible locations they could’ve fled to in this town.

There were several shops and fishermen around trying to sell their wares but you doubt you’d find one of them there, especially with the sun setting already. Then your eyes stop at a shield hanging from one of the big wooden doors around you.

A tavern.

Bingo.

You break out into a sprint again, ripping the door open and startling several of the guests. Ignoring all of their complaints is easy when your eyes zero in on one table in the far back where your father is cackling obnoxiously loud, probably about some lame joke Marlo made.

“Dad!” – you yell and hurry over to their table. When they notice you, everyone’s eyes turn as big as saucers and the table almost topples over with the force of everyone suddenly standing up, trying to get to you first.

This time you really cry when the first pair of arms encircles you, soon to be followed by countless more, the lot of you just ending up in a big cuddle pile.

“You don’t know how much I missed you” – you cry and everyone shares your sentiment.

“We thought you died!”

“How did you survive that?!”

“Where have you been this entire time?!”

“How did you get to this island?!”

You answer all of their questions throughout the evening and in-between beers. For a moment, you think whether to tell them about Hyunjin’s existence or to obscure it to keep him safe in case someone else was listening in on your conversation. You settle on whispering it to your parents while the others are busy getting shitfaced. You’re your parents are surprised would be an understatement and they don’t believe you at first, thinking you might have taken a hit to your head or that you started to hallucinate in your absence.

Your insistence on the truthfulness of your story makes them eventually back down and give in.

“I don’t want to do anything he doesn’t want to, so I don’t know if you’ll ever meet him but… I just wanted you to know that my survival was thanks to a kind soul” – you mumble to them and your own statement makes you suddenly go rigid.

In your revery and celebration you totally forgot that Hyunjin was waiting for you.

You excuse yourself hastily, only your parents knowing the real reason why you would suddenly leave, and run outside to where you had last seen him. New anxieties swirl in your head. What if he left? What if that was it and you never got to say a proper goodbye to him? Thank him for what he’s done?

The coast was entirely clear so you called out to him in the dark.

“Hyunjin?”

Silence.

“Hyunjin? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you wait for so long!”

The waves softly crash against the shores.

“My parents know about you, I hope that was fine? They’re very grateful, just like I am!”

The sounds of drunken hollering from the town reach your ears but thankfully they’re quiet, too far away to be a concern.

“Please don’t tell me you left…” – your voice gets quieter with each time you call out to him.

That’s when you spot something in the water. Two glowing orbs watching you from beneath the water. A relieved sigh escapes your lungs and your eyes sting, marking the fourth time you want to cry today.

You carefully step to the edge of the water and crouch down to place your hand into the sea. There’s a few moments before the yellow glow starts gliding through the water towards you and something suddenly takes your hand into theirs.

Hyunjin’s head peeks out of the water and you can see him pout.

“I thought you left me for good” – he mumbles into the water and despite his overly dramatic pout, you know he means it.

“I really am sorry… I got carried away after seeing my family again but I should have at least given you a sign or something instead of letting you wait without knowing what’s going on” – you caress his cheek, letting your thumb graze over the miniscule fins protruding from his cheekbones and Hyunjin lets out a soft trill.

“I was scared” – he doesn’t look you in the eyes anymore after his admission and your heart breaks.

“Don’t leave me, you’re all I have” – he sounds so broken, so different from the boy that kept giggling over the dumbest things you told him.

“Hyunjin…”

The water splashes around him when he pushes his body up on the stone, tail flailing behind him. When his hands find purchase on your shoulders, his retracted nails digging into your flesh, you half think he is going to live up to the siren stereotypes and drag you into the depths, but instead, his plush lips crash into yours haphazardly.

For a moment you’re taken aback, the force of the kiss so sudden, but your heart swells when your mind finally catches up to what was happening, your lips starting to move against his.

He tastes salty and a bit fishy, you can feel his fangs when you push your lips against his. Hyunjin is in a constant battle with himself of wanting to savor this and wanting to rush to the next part. His body wins and he timidly licks your lips, requesting you to open your mouth for him.

As you two kiss, pouring every amount of yearning and love into it, your arms circle around his small waist, pulling him further against your body. A pleased trill escapes his lips and you smile against him, licking excitedly into his mouth. You notice his tongue is different from yours, forked at the end and longer overall. Your tongue catches a few times on the many little fangs in his mouth but you don’t mind. Right now, you’re on cloud nine.

“The feelings I have in my chest are too big to put into words” – he says breathlessly when you part, foreheads touching.

“Can you show them to me?”

Hyunjin nearly sobs at your question, his mind pushing him to do a million things at the same time. How does one put their love into actions properly? How could he possibly show you how much you grew to mean to him within the days you spent together with just one action?

The rest of his tail lifts out of the water and envelops you, his arms pushing you to rest your head against his chest as he cradles you.

“My mother used to hold me like this” – he begins quietly, his heart thumping loudly against your ear.

“She said that as long as her heart was beating in her chest and I could hear it like this, I wouldn’t have to worry about anything. And even long after the beating of her heart faded out, I could remember it and be sure that for as long as she lived, her heart was beating for me” – he hugs you tighter against his chest, his cheek resting atop your head.

The two of you stay like this for a while, just breathing with each other, feeling each other’s skin. You give little kisses to his chest, finally getting to touch his scales like you wanted to the moment you met him.

“I know it’s not a replacement for what you lost, but for the time being until we find your friends again, if you wanted to, I could probably convince the others to take you with us, you know.”

“You would?”

“Of course I would, you dummy”, you giggle and poke his side and he lets out a trill again, much to your joy.

“My parents already know about you and even though a part of them probably thinks their daughter has lost it, they would accept you without thought. You saved me and showed me more kindness than another human might in a situation like this, you’re probably already part of the crew in their heads.”

Hyunjin sobs and hugs you even tighter to his body, his tail wrapping protectively around your legs.

In the quiet of the night, you two whisper about better tomorrows and a future filled with love to each other.

You don’t return to your family until morning.

-

The introduction between Hyunjin and your family went as well as you could have hoped. While most of them were weary at first, scared, that he was going to turn on them and do siren things to them, they accepted him after seeing that he was equally as shy about meeting them. Plus, they couldn’t argue with you for long when you kept insisting that he was the only reason you were alive right now.

The crew went about loading and repairing the ship from the damages it endured during the battle, meaning that you weren’t going to leave this place for a few days at least. Hyunjin curiously watched the hustle and bustle from a short distance away, not wanting to be in the way or risking getting seen by locals who didn’t know about him.

Your father approaches you on the last day of repairs, asking you to check out a new little addition to the pirate ship, one that has you gasping in happiness.

They decided to add a small, silly lift and a bunch of nets that were sturdy enough to hold Hyunjin on the side of the ship. That way, he could either use the lift with the help of someone on board or climb his way on deck using the nets. With an addition like this you were absolutely sure that Hyunjin was now part of the family and with an excited skip in your step you run to tell him about it.

He seems just as excited about it, his ear fins flickering happily and a huge grin on his face. Just one issue.

“Do you…uhm, have a bucket of water or something for me to sit in? I’m going to dry out otherwise.”

You scratch your head in thought. You kind of forgot that he needs water to survive, never having seen him outside of it for long.

“We got that covered, lad!”, Marnie yells, scaring both of you, as he unloads the last ingredients for the kitchen on deck.

“Near the spot where our dear y/n always sunbathes we put up a big tub already filled with salty sea water for ye!”

Hyunjin’s eyes glitter in joy and he claps his hands together excitedly.

“y/n! Help me up! I’ve always wanted to see what it’s like to be on a big ship like this!”

You chuckle and run on board towards the lift, and with little trouble you get the siren on board. A little more physical effort from both of you is needed to get Hyunjin across the deck and into the tub but when his cute little fish butt hits the water the two of you let out a pleased sigh.

“This is great!” – he trills excitedly, not knowing where to look first.

As Hyunjin takes in all the sights and the difference in height, you take the opportunity to observe the rest of the ship, a sense of calm settling in your chest at the thought of having both your family back and Hyunjin by your side.

-

Travelling with a siren by your side proves to be quite advantageous. The fishing takes half the time with Hyunjin speeding through the nearby waters and snatching up any fish big and beautiful enough to be considered meal-worthy by Marnie while your father desperately tries to do it the old-fashioned way only to lose to the siren every time.

To make up for every defeat, Hyunjin’s second job as a pirate is scouting ahead of your ship to make sure you’re not running into any law enforcement or other pirates that could prove dangerous.

He seems to love being needed for specific tasks.

The next time the opportunity arises for your crew to steal from a rich guy, Arlen casually takes a painting off the wall to offer it to Hyunjin later. He tries to brush it off as not a big deal, yet he can’t escape getting pulled into a big hug as Hyunjin thanks him wholeheartedly.

Arlen would never admit it to anyone but he teared up a bit at the genuine excitement bubbling off the siren just because he gave him a little gift.

The others soon also realised Hyunjin’s love for art so it escalated into something of a tradition for any crewmember to always bring back something from the world of art for their new fish buddy.

-

Today was one of the boring days, the entire crew on land for their business endeavors. The ship wasn’t docked as usual, a short distance away from land so they had to use the row boats to get to their destination. That left Hyunjin and you alone on the boat, lounging about in the sun. He let one arm lazily dangle outside of his tub to hold your hand with.

You suddenly realise that with the entire crew gone, probably until the next day, you could finally get some much needed kisses in. Ever since you took off from Port Vement, Hyunjin and you had to abstain from too much physical contact since you didn’t want to scare your parents with both bringing a real siren to the crew and explaining that he might be their new son-in-law.

Hyunjin cracks his eyes open when he feels your hand caressing his cheek. Without warning, you press a kiss to his lips and he feels like bursting at the seams, after being deprived of your loving touch for so long. It was just the start of your relationship and he immediately had to hold himself back from all the physical affections he wanted to give you. It was kind of unfair.

All the more reason for him to meet your kiss with as much fervor as he could muster. The miniscule fins on his cheekbones tickle you when you deepen the kiss, your tongue gliding over his forked one. Your heart beats erratically at your chest at you finally being able to kiss him again, your desperation transferring over to your movements being overly eager, accidentally knocking your teeth together but Hyunjin doesn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, it seems to spur him on even more, his hand finding its place on your waist, squeezing your flesh rhythmically.

You decide to be bold and lift your body in the tub, your legs on each side of his tail. Hyunjin looks up at you with an open mouth and big, glazed over eyes, clearly startled.

“Your clothes…”

“Forget about them, Hyune.”

And you descend back on him, your lips clashing with his. Your fingertips graze his ear fins and he lets out a high trill at the back of his throat. They must be sensitive. You store that knowledge in the back of your head for later.

Hyunjin is restless, unsure of where he’s allowed to touch, if he’s supposed to just trust his instincts, let his body do whatever it wanted. You were clearly just doing whatever came to your mind, grinding your core into his tail and letting out small whimpers against his lips that drove him crazy. He needed to know, so he gently pushes you away from him.

“Are you sure?”

You look at him dazed and it seems to take a second before his question registers in your head.

“More than sure. Do whatever feels right, Hyune.”

That about does it for him. His body presses into yours as he attaches his lips on your neck, sucking and peppering it with kisses. Your hands glide over the many fins along his spine, lightly scratching at the base of them and earning another trill from him. Your shirt is discarded haphazardly and thrown somewhere nearby the tub, leaving you bare in front of him. His curious eyes roam hungrily over your chest, a hand coming up to cup your breast experimentally.

“Where can I touch you?” – you breathe against him and Hyunjin suddenly grows shy. A red blush starts to creep up on his neck but he takes one of your hands into his regardless and places it on a specific part on the front of his tail.

“You… you know my ear fins are sensitive and the top of my body works similar to a human’s but, uhm… this is, you know…” – he stammers as you press your fingers into his scales gently. A small slit runs horizontally up his tail between his scales and in a burst of curiosity, you press your fingers inside, causing Hyunjin to throw his head back against the tub and let out a long moan.

“I see” – you tell him and continue to lightly press your fingers against his slippery walls. Your ministrations have him writhing and squirming underneath you, letting out small wanton moans mixed with trills.

Something soon pushes your fingers away and you take a moment to look at the mess Hyunjin had become while you were busy playing with him. He already looked so fucked out, his eyes glossy and glazed over, his hair falling around him messily like a crown, his chest heaving as he looked up at you.

He still was the prettiest thing you ever saw.

“y/n… please…” – he tugs at your pants and you realise you’re still completely dressed from the waist down. You hastily step out of the tub to get rid of the last few offending garments, bearing yourself entirely to him. As you step back in, you see what was pushing against your fingers just a moment ago.

That makes everything a little easier to figure out, as two cocks, similar in color to his tail, protrude from the slit, one a little bit larger than the other. But before you can touch him again, he urges you to sit on the edge of the wooden tub, eager to get his mouth on you. His forked tongue delves between your folds, experimentally licking up and down before focusing its attack entirely on your clit as he suckles.

Your hand tangles itself into his luscious hair, keeping him in place. The effort was kind of in vain because Hyunjin would rather die than part from you at this moment, greedily licking up your juices just to hear more of those melodic moans spilling from your lips. Just as much as you grew obsessed with his fascinating voice and trills, he grew to love your voice the same way.

Carefully, with retracted claws, one of his long fingers prods at your entrance before slipping in until the membrane stopped it from going any further.

“You’re doing so well…” – you praise him and earn a trill, your hands starting to massage his ear fins to give some of the pleasure back.

His ministrations soon bring you to your first climax and leave both of you panting and wanting for more.

Hyunjin eases you back into the tub to hover over his crotch. He gently takes the bigger one of his cocks into his hand, hissing at the contact after going for so long with no touches, and angles it towards your entrance for you to sink down on.

You both moan as you sink down to the hilt, his smaller cock nestling directly against your clit. Time stands seemingly still as you get used to the unusual stretch.

“You okay?” – Hyunjin whispers and soothingly rubs your lower back, his cold hands soothing against your burning flesh. You nod at him, letting your body fall against his, chest against chest, your arms circling around his waist as your face buries itself into his neck.

“Can you move?”

Hyunjin trills and obeys your command without thought, moving his hips in slow motions, his cock dragging deliciously against your walls. The extra stimulation from his smaller cock against your front makes you whine into his neck which you pepper with kisses, his gills fluttering at the caress of your lips.

“You feel so good…” – Hyunjin all but whimpers, his hands finding purchase on your hips to move you against him. You hug his chest tighter as you feel your orgasm build up a second time.

“Can I…uhm-“

“Do whatever you want, Hyune. Please.”

You feel him kiss the crown of your head and his strong tail bracing itself against the wooden tub before his pace gets rougher and faster, water beginning to slosh out at the sides. The drag of his two cocks against you is too much for you, your cunt clenching around him as you come with a strained moan into his chest.

“Ah… I love you, y/n. I love you, I really do. Where do I-“

“Inside.”

“Really?”

“I want all of you, Hyunjin.”

You lift up and take his face between your hands to look at him as his hips stutter into you in an uneven rhythm until you feel his cum filling you up. That trill accompanies his voice even as he comes. He looks beautiful, his eyes full of adoration, his lips slightly apart as he comes down from his high slowly.

You two hold onto each other, just basking in eachother’s closeness for a while before his cock slips out of you, retracting back into his slit now that it’s all over and no longer needed.

“I love you, too, by the way.”

And Hyunjin couldn’t be happier, his ear fins flapping happily as he nuzzles his face further into your hair.

-

You do eventually tell your parents about the relationship between you and Hyunjin and although they seem extremely hesitant at first, they figure they can’t really do anything to stop you from pursuing him with the way he’s bonded to you.

The crew eventually returns to Port Vement to stay there for a few days and Hyunjin and you find yourselves on the same part of the shore where your relationship started taking a turn.

You both lounge about beneath the stars, you tucked carefully into his chest. Originally you were scared that Hyunjin and your world were too different for this to go well but you found that despite him being a sea dweller and kind of a menace sometimes, that the two of you are a better fit than you expected.

When you want to tell him another story from your childhood for old time’s sake, you find him already fast asleep in the sand next to you. You smile and kiss the corner of his mouth before settling back against his chest.

Whatever battles lie ahead, you’re sure Hyunjin would pull you from the depths again and again and anyone daring to attack him for what he was would face your entire crews wrath.

As long as your hearts beat, they beat for eachother, you’re sure of that.

-

taglist: @jeonginsleftcheek

[bunnys-kisses]

(ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ mad(ly in love) max｡ ⊹˚.⋆

partially inspired by this by @angldelight before it got away from me! <3

max knew you looked better in blue than red. and if you did look good in red, it was the red of the his team rather than the garish red of ferrari. he believed the statement that everyone is a ferrari fan even if they don't know it, because if they saw a photo of you, they'd have brand loyalty to the stallion for the rest of their days.

there was a reason why your face and name were everywhere in your home country. you were a pride and joy to the nation you called home. but, max was more than happy to stake a claim on you.

max liked you because you challenged him. far too many women would bend over backwards for the three time champion, but you simply glared him down with your hands on your hips. you stood toe to toe with him even if there was a height difference. but you kept your gaze steady on him.

"don't fuck me over again." you said, "or you'll regret it."

"i would never do it on purpose, princess. maybe you should watch where you are going from now on." he bite back in response. he noticed a twitch in your hand, like you wanted to grab him by the front of his driver's suit and pull him close. either for a punch or a kiss.

it would eventually lead in kisses. max liked when you were mad because then that meant he could flip the script and get ferrari's little princess on her knees with a mouthful of verstappen cock. it was honestly cute, while he wanted to dive into your sweet cunt and make your insides sticky with his cum. he'd have to make you acquainted with his size.

max verstappen was fuckin' crazy though, being involved with him was like being a deer and getting your leg caught in a trap. the type of obsession that clamped around you, dug its teeth into your fragile skin. you were so cute though, something some delicate and soft. formula one was for the toughest, the mental and physical strain of it all (that could be why he was so... off). and while max believed in you, he worried.

where you were going, who you were with. you hadn't only been in monaco for a few years and while you had the likes of charles to help you around. when he heard about men you had met, max felt something curl inside of him.

it started inauspicious. he slipped an air tag into the back pocket of your jeans while you were in your driver's room getting ready for dinner with some guy that max couldn't even remember the name of. he was all smiles as he wished you a great time.

too bad there was an issue with your car. how could you have a flat tire already, you just got the car? and when you asked your date to come pick you up, he totally ghosted you. little did you know that while you were struggling with you car, max went to meet your date and give him a few firm words. that was when the real mad max came out.

"listen mate. you're never going to give her what she needs. hell, not even what she wants. there are plenty of fish in the sea." he got a little closer to the other man, "but you can't have her."

"why?" your date swallowed.

max nodded and flashed that winning smile, "because she's mine. and i know she may have talked so nice to you. she's like that. charming. but sadly she's taken. so i think it's in everyone's best interest that you delete her number and go back to finding your perfect match." he patted the man on the shoulder like they were buddies.

"and if i don't."

max's smile only grew, "i don't like people fucking what's mine. she's taken, mate. move on." he couldn't verbalize exactly how he'd rough up the other man. he didn't want to make headlines. but there was something in his gaze that made your date high tail it out of there. your number blocked and deleted.

max then used the air tag to find you at a bar close to your flat where you were drinking away your sorrows. but, don't worry about that! max was now here to make sure that you had the best night ever. while that meant ending up drunk and curled up in his bed, but he didn't mind. he was even a gentleman and created a barrier of pillows between the two of you. no funny business. even if he wanted to. when he eventually fucked you, he wanted you conscious.

that air tag would come in handy, turns out that you wore the same pair of black levi's jeans. max was wondering if he had to get more air tags to place along other items. but, he lucked out with that one. you thought it was a strange coincidence that he seemed to be where you were.

and he'd laugh and tell you, "small city, right?"

it took months of hard work but, eventually he got to sink his pretty cock into your prettier hole. the happiest day of his life. he had invited you on his boat for the afternoon, and while he didn't expect much. he wasn't expecting your pretty tits on such display. a pretty red checkered print bikini and sandals as you stayed close to max.

and then alone, out in the waters. you ended up straddling max's waist while he sat on one of the seats up on the deck. it was couch-like and allowed you two some room as you rubbed your sweet pussy up against the front of his shorts. his hands dug into the plushness of your ass as he moved against you. you were painfully pretty, and it drove max insane. you'd try to run him off the track, but he'd always get an apology by having your pretty tits in his face and your pussy around his cock.

"you feel so good." he said, "you're so soft."

you whimpered, "i'm not that soft. you keep feeding me all this good food since i came to visit! my team is going to be pissed." you squirmed a little.

he kissed at your breasts in front of your face and laughed, "well, then. i guess i'll have to keep feeding you better food." his teeth then nipped your left breast and it made you whine. his hands continued to grope you ass and you squirmed a little more.

you didn't realize that you're movements only made him harder and he had to force himself to let go of you to take his cock out of his shorts. this was a dream come true, after months of being your little shadow.

"you know how to do this?" he asked.

you held onto his shoulders and chuckled, "yes, i've had sex before." which made something cold run through max's body, but it was quickly heated up once more when you sank down on him.

other men might had had you, but he was going to make sure you were his forever. no need to get stuffed with another man's cock, when you have max who, as he might add, can get into you quite easily. it was like you were made for him as you started to ride him. he pulled you into a kiss with one hand while he groped your behind with the other. he felt your core shiver around him as you continued to move up and down on his cock.

this only lit his need for you more. if you were so good on top, how good were you on the bottom, or at your side, or stuffed full of fingers and toys as max pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you. he wanted you, he was mad for you. while he'd sometimes pull dirty tricks on the track, he had a whole other set of skills for you. because he could never hurt you on the track, too much of a risk for your safety. but he'd bruise your little pussy and cover your pretty soft breasts in large bites. he'd hope that cameras would get a good look at the pretty marks.

a lot easier to scare off men than to see a woman decorated with hickies. if he had it his way, you'd be wearing a little chain with his initials on it. or better yet, chubby little verstappen baby at your hip. the thought made something hot run through him. oh, that unlocked something in his brain as he was balls deep inside of you. he continued to leave a mess of bites on your chest as you continued to rut against him. your back arched a little when he bit one of your nipples.

"i need you to burn that bikini when we get to shore." he said between heavy pants as he grabbed your ass roughly and pushed himself up as much as he could go. his voice was a little strained from the intensity of it all.

"why?" you asked as you looked down at you.

"because, someone might get the wrong idea. and i don't want you getting hurt." he replied. it showed off far too much, too much of what belonged to him.

he rubbed up against you further. his cock poking some of your deepest parts, he wondered if he was the biggest you ever had. or if there was some other guy in another part of the world who took you apart better than him. unlikely. the way he watched you wiped drool from the corner of your mouth as you rode him made him excited.

during his time racing alongside you, he had seen you at euphoric highs of victory and deep anger when losing. but, this was a whole other look, you were far from focused. only really thinking about the cock, his cock, stuffing you full. guess there was no need to get you into his clothes and keep an air tag in your bad anymore, not when you had such a sweet look across your face.

he ran his blunt nails down the side of your thighs and felt you clench harder around his cock. which made sparks appear in the back of max's mind.

"pretty thing." he said. there was a softness to you that he wanted to sink his teeth into. especially the slight chub at your hips, next time he wanted to bite down on the skin and leave pretty bruises across it. you were just so beautiful. he thought formula one was for ugly men because they wore a helmet all the time, not pretty women who made max go insane.

you whined a little bit and started to feel yourself really get hot all over. his cock fit in you perfectly. while lust clouded your head, you honestly did think about throwing out the bikini you were wearing on board the boat. he kissed at your pulse point and you moaned, your pussy fluttered around him.

"i need that bikini gone before we get back to shore." he said.

"why, what will i wear?" you asked a little shy. you couldn't get back onto land with nothing on!

he grabbed at your ass once more and pushed you down on his cock, then held you for a moment. his lips were squared with yours as he said, "i got some extra clothes in the bedroom below deck." he knew that it was either red bull or verstappen merchandise. something that he had a lot of and could get wet.

while it wouldn't show off your pretty figure. the idea of you getting a bit chilled while heading 'home' and having your nipples poke through a shirt with his logo on it made him hotter. maybe he'll turn the ac up in the car on the drive home.

"i don't want anyone to see the bikini ever again. i'll buy you something nicer." he said as he thrusted up into you, "i don't want hungry eyes on you and neither do you. you're not a piece of meat." even though max wished to devour you, you were not meat. he'd say you were more like fruit. something refreshing and bright. something to crave on a warm day like today.

"i should have something in my bag." you said as you continued to ride him.

he held your soft hips and looked up at you, "no, no." he said then licked his top lip, "wear my clothes, they'll be more comfortable." and it'll hide your figure better.

you were the first to climax, and he managed to get you across the seat of the couch and fuck you from behind doggy style. perfect angle to make sure every last drop. you clawed at the faux leather and arched your back, your sweet noises against the sounds of the sea. your pussy clenched around him as he bullied the tip up against your cervix.

it was important for the two to get acquainted.

he finally finished inside of you and let out a sweet groan. he clenched onto your hips tightly and watched you go fully limp against the couch as you tried to catch your breath. he pulled out and gooey cum dripped out of your poor pussy. ah, it's okay. he simply pushed it all back inside of you.

with the amount he finished inside of you, you were at least 3% dutch now!

when max was finished with you, he knew that he was going to keep the little princess of ferrari. maybe eventually you'll wear the red bull logo across your pretty tits when you entered the paddock. or maybe better yet, the verstappen last name. but for now he'd simply have to stake his claim by shoving all his cum into your sweet cunt. after all it was a safer place to keep it compared to his own fist.

-

even with the start of the new season. his fixation of your cunt didn't end. so what you're on a different team, that didn't mean he couldn't easily go to the ferrari area and just get you to himself. when you win the first race of the season and sing along to your national anthem, max smiles in second. not because he is happy that you are winning.

but because he knew that his cum was dampening the front of your sweet cotton panties. you may have the trophy over your head, but he knew after this, he'd get another chance to sink another load in you. <3

a/n: is this anything? does anyone want more of this????

[luveline]

If you are still writing for bombshell x Spencer could you write something from early seasons when he had feelings for JJ 👉🏻👈🏻

Hotch told you once that he was tempted to put an automatic lock on the office doors, so that he can lock them when he sees you coming during your working hours. 

He has yet to follow through. You slip in through the doors and take a deep breath. It smells like coffee, printer paper, all the same stuff as your own office, but your office doesn’t have Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan, or Spencer Reid. 

“Neither does this one, apparently,” you mumble to yourself, casting your gaze around the room to no avail. The boys aren’t here. 

Emily’s sitting at her desk. She’s new, you’re jealous of her job, but she’s gorgeous. You won’t mind sitting at Spencer’s desk until they get back. “Hello,” you drawl, setting down in Spencer’s chair comfortably. 

Emily’s mildly startled. “Hey?”

Spencer’s desk is an explosion. You debate cleaning up for him. What if you put something in the wrong place? It’ll be more annoying than helpful. “How are things?” you ask, pushing Spencer’s chair back, and kicking a leg over your knee, high heel bobbing. 

“What?” 

You smile at her. Flirting, just a little, but your concern is real. “How are things going, Prentiss? With you?” 

“They’re good. Yeah. I just moved into my new place.” 

Bless her for not knowing what to do with you. She doesn’t have practice like the rest. “A new place? Where to?” 

She relaxes while you talk. Her apartment overlooking Kingman, her cat’s annoyance at the new smells and the long case time away. “Spencer says that cats aren’t capable of holding grudges, but Sergei can.” 

“He’s cute, isn’t he? He knows a fun fact for everything.” 

Emily sits up. You can see the excitement of a secret in her dark eyes. “He’s adorable. His little crush on JJ is so sweet, I’ve tried to give him some advice but he’s totally stuck on her.” You falter. And Emily, profiler in training, she catches it. Her lips part, startled. “You’re not–”

“I had no idea Spencer had a little crush,” you breathe, sitting up with a smile. “For how long? What about JJ, is she interested in him?” You hug your hands together. “You know, I think they’d make a cute couple.”

“Well, I heard they went to a football game together, but I don’t know when. Before I got here, at least.” 

What? “That’s fun.”

“I don’t think it’s serious.”

You tip your head back and the heavens have opened, Derek Morgan’s making his way toward you with a grin and a hand reaching for you. “Sweetheart, where have you been?” he asks. “It’s been weeks, I was starting to miss you.” 

You texted him a few days ago about a property nearby for rent, and you had coffee the day after to hear his advice on the area, so he’s just making stuff up. “Hi, Derek.” 

You get up and let him hug you. You deserve it. You’re beautiful and fun and smart, and you deserve a handsome man rubbing your arm and telling you he missed you. “How much?” you ask warmly. 

“Like a hole in the head.” 

Hotch is behind him. And there, the surprise item of the afternoon, Spencer Cheating Reid. 

“Hi, Hotch,” you say. 

“I heard something about you I’d rather not repeat,” he says. 

“Hotch, the details were wildly exaggerated, and I was less at fault than you might think.”

“I thought it was entirely your fault.” He shakes his head. “You’re shooting yourself in the foot, doing things like that.” 

“Why, what did you do?” Spencer asks. 

You falter again. Everyone sees your insecurity: Hotch’s brow furrows deeper than it had been, Morgan pauses, and Spencer, to your panic, holds your eye as the emotion passes. “It’s not worth talking about,” you say, shrugging. 

“Try not to do it again,” Hotch says. “Morgan, with me.” 

“Uh, Hotch?” Emily speaks up. 

“You too, Prentiss.” 

He leads a procession up to his office. Morgan throws you a look like he wants to talk to you, but you’ve plastered unaffectedness over the wound again. Why does the idea of JJ and Spencer going on a date upset you? He’s a sweet guy, she’s a nice girl. Is it because you didn’t know? 

“You really haven’t been here in weeks,” Spencer says. 

“Missed me?” 

He holds the strap of his bag. “Yeah, I did.” 

What use does he have missing you? “I heard something interesting about you, Spencer.” 

“You did?”

He looks shy, pale, and worried. You forget sometimes how he’s not just your favourite dork, he’s a friend. And he doesn’t seem to have very many of them. 

Oh, you think, jealousy, you heartless monster. 

“The rumour mill says you aren’t sleeping enough,” you say gently. 

“I sleep fine.”

You put one kitten heel in front of the other and stay, squinting at him with a teasing suspicion. “That’s not what my informants have been telling me. You look tired, honey. You aren’t sleeping, or Hotch won’t let you?” 

“Both.” 

He does that playful smiley thing that makes you wanna scrunch his hair in your hands, like he knows he’s made a good joke. 

“Your case in Cincinnati sounded tough.” 

“Wait,” he says. 

“What?” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Usually. Why?” 

“Are you okay right now?” 

“I’m fine.” You purse your lips. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Just– you– I don’t know, you didn’t seem like yourself. I didn’t mean to upset you, asking about that stuff. It’s none of my business, sorry.” 

“How are you feeling about physical touch today?” you ask. 

He seems to regard you with distrust, for a few seconds, like he’s worried you’re messing with him. “I’m okay with it,” he says eventually. 

You step into his space and touch his cheek gently, fingertip tapping into a beauty mark you often remember only when he’s in your reach. “You didn’t say anything wrong. I’m sorry I made you think that.” You drop your hand. “Just having a weird day.” 

“Me too.” 

Spencer puts his bag under his desk and mentions a video he found on profiling you might like by one of the old Unit Chief’s, SSA David Rossi. You steal Derek’s chair and sit knee to knee with him to watch it, Spencer’s cheeks turning dark with blush in the screen’s reflection. 

Can JJ make him blush like that? 

—

bombshell fics

[no-144444]

prince charming- l.norris

summary: lando brings his niece to the ballet, who knew he'd find love?

pairing: lando norris x fem! ballerina! reader

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

Another show finished, another day done. All you had to do was meet some children and show them around the stage. It was a thing the company had decided to do after every single show, and you were one of the only ballerinas who enjoyed it. Everyone else ran out of there as fast as they could, but you stayed around, in full costume, showing them everything. 

“Y/n! Y/n! Look!” Mila, the little girl that had been assigned to you pulled on your hand and you followed her over. “It’s your Prince Charming!” She pointed at your co-star, Richard, who was playing Prince Charming while you played Cinderella. He was lovely and one of your best friends, but Mila’s face fell when she saw him kiss another girl, aka his actual girlfriend Mia. “He’s kissing someone else!” she gasped, looking at you hurt. 

You smiled. “We’re only together in the show, remember? My name isn’t Cinderella, is it?” You chuckled and she nodded, laughing. “So, that’s Richard, and he’s Mia’s real-life Prince Charming, not mine.”

She nodded understandingly. “Do you have a Prince Charming?”

You internally cringed, why did kids always want to know about your love-life? “No,” you smiled. 

Her face lit up. “OH! Perfect! Uncle Lala!” she called for her uncle to come over as your face fell. “Uncle Lala will you be Y/n’s Prince Charming so she can be my Auntie and we can have fun forever?!” 

Mila’s excited face and the ridiculousness of her statement, reminding him she truly didn’t know how the world worked, made him giggle. And with Lando, when he starts, he doesn’t stop. It took a whole minute for him to stop laughing, while you sat there awkwardly. You knew who he was, you knew why he was laughing, but it was still rude. Just say no, dude. 

“Mila, it doesn’t work like that,” he explained. “She’s way too pretty for me,” he whispered, sitting down beside her, and in front of you. 

Your eyes widened and you looked down, confused at the entire situation. 

“I know she is,” Mila answered (subtle dig at her uncle, but alright). “But you could ask her to dance or something. Princesses like dancing.”

Lando shook his head. “I’m an awful dancer.”

“Why do you just try talking to her!” Mila scoffed, then ran off to go look at some of the set of the show. 

You looked up and met his eyes and you both started laughing. “I’m so sorry about her, she gets like this sometimes,” he admitted, a slight blush on his cheeks. 

“It’s alright, it happens sometimes,” you waved him off, an easy smile on your face. 

“You get hit on through people’s nieces a lot?” he questioned. 

You chuckled. “It’s more common than you think, people love the ballerina shtick.”

He laughed. “How old are you?”

“I’m 23,” you answered. “And I’m Y/n.”

“I’m Lando,” he held his hand out to be shaken. “Nice to meet you.”

“NIce to meet you too,” you smiled, shaking his hand. “Congratulations on the year you’ve had.”

“You watch F1?”

You nodded. “My mom has been into it since she was a kid, she gave that to me, so… yeah.”

“Who’s your favourite driver?” he smirked and you chuckled. 

“Nico Hulkenberg,” you smirked. 

He chuckled. “Understandable,” he smiled, nodding. “Mila is probably off somewhere trying to destroy your set, I should probably go grab her.”

You both got up and smiled at each other. “It was nice to meet you.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Prince Charming,” you joked, he giggled. 

And that was that. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

For the next few days, Lando could not get you out of his head. You were funny, kind, beautiful, good with Mila, everything he wanted in a person, yet he’d let you slip away. You weren’t even on social media, but he followed the company’s instagram and some of your friends to see pictures of you. He decided, once the season ended, he’d go back and find you. Maybe he really could become your Prince Charming. 

He joined the rest of the crowd in their standing ovation as you bowed, smiling brightly. He waited around and followed a few more people backstage to finally see you again. 

“Lando?” you questioned as you looked at him from behind. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you again,” he shrugged. “Happy holidays.”

You smiled. “So it is true,” your eyes shone with a hint of mischief. “You did follow the company account.”

He screwed his face up in a half-smile-half-grimace, he’d been caught. “You don’t have a public account, thought it would be weird to follow you on your private one.”

You chuckled. “I would’ve let you follow me,” you told him. “You are my Prince Charming, right?”

He beamed. “Right,” he nodded. “Dinner?”

“Let me get out of costume,” you agreed. You started to walk off and he didn’t follow, unsure what to do. You turned back and grabbed his hand. “Come on!”

He was very happy he had brought Mila to the ballet.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[solarhysm]

DUST OF US - 01

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 2.6k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

AGE: 27 years old

“Where are you going?” Baekhyun asks, stretching as you get out of bed and grab all of your clothes. It was late but you hate sleeping in another bed than yours.

“I should go home.” You simply say, pulling on your panties and jeans as the younger man whines, flipping on his back.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, stay the night.” He suggests as you shake your head with an apologetic smile while putting your bra on.

“Hyesun is getting married, tomorrow. I need to get up early,” You explain, but it was an excuse. You don’t want to be more than intimate enough with anyone.

Once fully clothed, you grab your keys and turn to look at the man still laying completely naked in bed. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Aight, boss,” He teases making you roll your eyes. “One last kiss?”

“Bye,” You smile closing the door of his room, hearing him laugh before making your way out of his apartment.

Once in your car, you sigh, leaning on your seat as you stare at the ceiling. Eleven pm already, and tomorrow’s list kept growing in your mind.

Your way home was silent, you didn’t even put music on, mentally listing all the tasks to do tomorrow morning. Drive Hyesun to the hairstylist, make sure that the flowers are delivered, get her dress, and a lot more.

The house should already be decorated by now. Hyesun was getting married at her in-law’s house. They have a big yard and suggested to make the reception in there. Since you couldn’t be here to help today, you ended up with the stressful tasks tomorrow. Her friends aren’t yours.

Yes, you still have a small circle of friends in common, but Hyesun was a sunshine and most of all: an extrovert. She met her husband by boldly asking his number at a coffee shop where he was working, five years ago. Something you could never. That’s probably why you’re still single and she’s getting married.

Kicking your shoes off at your front door, you’re greeted by your cat. He was a little terror. Or a demon like Namjoon loves to call him. And you can’t blame your friend. Not only was Trash a black cat with only one ear, the other got cut off. You don’t know how.

He was already like that when you adopted him. He was skinny and really ugly when you first got him. Well... he’s still ugly, but now he’s well-fed, maybe too much, you chuckle as you kneel to scratch the top of his head. But he was also a tiny demon who attacked everyone who dared to visit you.

“Did you miss me?” You coo as the black cat let out a meow husky enough to let you think that he smokes too many cigarettes. He’s not a loud cat, he occasionally meows when he’s hungry or when you come home after a long day.

As you make your way to the kitchen, the fat cat follows you. Opening the fridge, you take out a bottle of water and gives him a treat. Your eyes fall on the dress you’ll wear tomorrow, hanged at the bedroom door.

The wedding theme was midnight sky. So, obviously, your dress is navy blue and long enough to end at your ankles with a slit on the right side. You didn’t choose it, Hyesun did.

Palming your face, you take a sip of your water and walk to your bedroom. You need a shower. You could still smell Baekhyun’s cheap cologne on your skin. And you hate it. Too used to your own scent. Not of any men anymore.

The wedding was beautiful, but you didn’t expect less from your best friend. And she was gorgeous in her wedding dress. She smiles a lot, but you never see her smile that way. And all you could think was that her jaw muscles probably hurt after four hours.

“No, what I want, is a whole butterfly starting from my shoulders to my ribs,” Your friend, Hwan explains to you as she flips to show her bare back. You can’t help but scoff, taking a sip of your wine.

“Why? You want to become a fairy or something?” You ask arching a brow as she turns to face you, frowning.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Hwan pouts, folding her arms under her chest, “I saw it on Pinterest, I totally fell in love with it.”

“A tattoo is for life, you know?” You sigh, finishing your glass before tilting your head to brush your fingers on her back, right where her ribs are. “And this part is sensitive. It’ll hurt like hell.”

Hwan shivers at your touch, and you chuckle. You know her. She wants a tattoo today, a piercing tomorrow and in two weeks she’ll regret both. The red head -a dye she did without a second thought- rolls her eyes.

“And you think I can’t handle the pain?” She asks with an attitude, a tone that makes you pinch her forearm as she squirms and step back. “Are you crazy?”

“You can’t handle the pain, Hwan.” You conclude while she rubs the part that start to turn red.

“You’re the worst tattoo artist I know. I’ll give you a bad review on Google.” She groans as you smirk and stick your tongue’s out at her, making her smile amused by you.

Your eyes scan the room full of guests you don’t know before a huge smile spread on your lips as you notice the man all alone. He was sipping his glass of whisky as he looks at his phone, feigning to be interested but he’s probably scrolling emptily. You know him. He hates when people try to connect with him.

Excusing yourself from Hwan and the other girls, you make your way to your friend, too busy on his phone to see you coming.

“Yoongs,” You call him once you’re a few steps closer to him, he lifts his cat eyes from his screen before offering you a slight smirk and opening his arms as you nestle against his chest. You’re not really touchy, but with Yoongi, it was different.

“Nice dress.” He simply says, his nose in your hair before you pull back to look at him. He looks nice too. His hair is longer, but it suits him.

“You didn’t cut your hair?” You ask as he sighs, rolling a strand between his finger as you keep an arm around his waist.

“Didn’t have the time for it.”, He mumbles taking another sip of his whisky. “I didn’t know you would be here. Since you own a tattoo shop, we don’t see you often anymore.”

“It’s my best friend’s wedding, I couldn’t miss it. She would have dragged my ass back here.” you chuckle making him smile and nod.

“That sounds like Hyesun,” He jokes as you smile.

Yoongi wasn’t that tall, but he was still everyone’s type. Calm, mysterious, and good looking. If only dating was on his plans. That guy will probably stay single his whole life, too focused on his work.

“I was looking for you everywhere!” Hyesun groans grabbing your arm.

“I was here,” You simply reply, raising your shoulders, making Yoongi looks at you both amused. You probably get along because you’re both sarcastic. At least you know that’s something he likes about you.

“Thanks Sherlock, Mystery solved!” She rolls her eyes, before pulling you away from your friend, “Come on, follow me, I want to take pictures with you.”

She quickly waves at Yoongi, blowing a kiss at him as he didn’t move before pushing you away.

“He’s like a good old wine. Every time I see him, he’s getting hotter.” She smirks as you make your way to the photographer.

“Aren’t you married?” You joke making her roll her eyes.

“Married, not blind. As long as I touch with my eyes,” She adds as you shake your head, laughing, joining the girls.

Yoongi leaves his empty glass on the table next to him, an amused smirk on his face. If you stayed longer, he would have been part of an interesting reunion.

“Shit, I almost peed myself. There is a whole queue at the male bathroom,” The younger man groans, coming back next to Yoongi as he takes back his beer. “Hyung?”

The older man turns to his friend and arches a brow to show that he’s listening.

“Hyesun told me that there was a private bathroom upstairs for the closest friends” Yoongi simply mumbles, making Jungkook groans as he ties his hair into a bun.

“And you tell me only now?” the tattooed man sighs as he pulls up his sleeves, the temperature of the room getting hotter. Or maybe it’s him from running here and there.

“You left without a word,” Yoongi shrugs like it was obvious, his eyes still on the group of girls making funny faces at the camera. Jungkook lets out a chuckle.

“Which one?” He asks his friend who simply arches a brow. “I’m sure it’s the red head. You always had a think for girls with weird hair colors.”

Yoongi didn’t say anything. He’s used to the teasing. It’s a loss of energy, Jungkook was competitive and if you say that the sky was blue, he would tell otherwise until you tell him he's right.

Jungkook smiles proudly, turning his attention to the bunch of girls. Hyesun had pretty friends, but he’s not surprised. Until he recognized a face. A face he knows too well, a face he loved deeply once upon a time.

You didn’t change. Well… Your hair is shorter. You never liked your hair short, not after your mother spent your childhood cutting it into a bob.

The bangs too. You hated them. But today, you wore it gracefully. His doe eyes trail the length of it, how it brushes your shoulders when you laugh, how you have to push your bang asides.

He never hated you. Even after you broke his heart. Even after coming home to an empty apartment because you disappeared, or when you blocked his number and changed yours. He never hated you.

“You said she wasn’t here.” He frowns, turning to Yoongi who simply arches a brow.

“She wasn’t supposed to.” Yoongi replies, taking a sip of his new glass.

“I shouldn’t have come.” Jungkook sighs, his brows still in a frown creating a slight wrinkle between them.

“Kookie,” Yoongi turns his gaze to his friend who’s clearly uncomfortable. “You’re back in town. You both have the same friends group. What did you expect? You’ll have to confront her one day or another.”

“Y/N,” Hwan calls you as you were taking another glass of wine, facing her with a small hm? “The guy you talked earlier,”

“Yoongi?”

“Yeah, something like that. Do you know his friend?” She asks as you follow her gaze to the large man next to Yoongi, his back facing you. You liked the tattoos, and the muscular frame. The long hair was clearly a bonus.

“No,” You reply, your eyes trailing on Yoongi’s friend. You’ll definitely ask Yoongi who that is later.

“He’s hot,” Hwan comments as you nod, taking a sip of your wine before spitting everything out. You cough when the mysterious man turns around, laughing with your friend.

And almost immediately, you hide behind the table that separates you. Was this a joke?

“What’s wrong? One of your one-night stands?” Hwan chuckles clearly amused to see you, on your knees, trying to hide under the table. If only you could be sucked up by the floor. It was stupid. It was an old story. It’s been seven years since you dumped him like an old, forgotten sock.

“It’s my ex,” You almost whisper, making Hwan wide her eyes and hide with you like she even met him before.

You never thought that you’ll see him again. He disappeared for Japan right after your breakup for his studies. And you didn’t think about him since then. Well, it’s a lie.

You thought about him the three first years after your split. But, he was just some old memories from the shoebox under your bed. 

Some love letters written by a teenage boy, an empty bottle of perfume and a shirt of his that you didn’t have the heart to throw. But that’s all he was. A shoebox of memories.

“Oh damn,” Hwan murmurs, “How did you get that hot piece of man?” She asks as you roll your eyes.

He wasn’t that hot when you started dating him. He had a chestnut haircut, was too skinny even if he was the sporty type, and huge doe eyes. Now he’s…. a man.

“I think… I need to get out”, You swallow, get up and finish your glass. Walking to the backyard, you catch a bottle on your way.

Thankfully, Hwan didn’t follow you. A few persons were outside, some of them making out, the others too drunk, and probably getting some fresh air like you.

Did Hyesun invite him? Why did he come? He knows that she’s your friend. That you’d be here. Palming your face, you lean back against the wall, taking a sip of your bottle of champagne. Fuck… This is childish. You’re twenty-seven, for God’s sake. Act like an adult.

“Hiding?” You heard on your right, making you almost jump.

And here he was, a few meters away, a bottle of beer in hand. His eyes changed. He grew up.

“Good evening, Jungkook,” You breathe as he offers you a slight smile, his lips mostly forming a line.

“Good evening, Y/N,” He replies, making a few steps closer, “Long time no see.”

“Yeah...”

A silence falls between you before he takes a breath like he wants to calm his nerves too. Were you two nervous around each other?

“How… have you been?” He asks with a soft voice.

“Good. You?”

“Good.”

“Nice.”

You wanted to punch yourself. That conversation was stupid. Back then, you two could debate about everything for hours. Now, you can’t even have a basic conversation.

“I… Didn’t know you were back.” You say, looking at the grass at your feet.

“Yeah… I- I missed Korea.” He raises his shoulders slightly before taking a sip of his beer.

“Oh…Okay.” You scrunch your nose and take a sip of your bottle to not look too much stupid but his lips crease in an amused smile at the bottle in your hand. Neither of you says anything. And it’s weird. “That’s… some cool tattoos,” You add, trying to make the conversation as you point his entire inked sleeve with your chin.

“Yeah?” He chuckles awkwardly. “I always wanted tattoos.”

“I know.” You reply, almost immediately, making him lift his gaze to you as your eyes widen. “You- hm- You thought that Yakuza were cool.” you continue as he nods, his eyes still on you while you look away.

“You remembered.”

You clench your jaw slightly and take another sip of champagne. You hate champagne, but you didn’t read what was written on the bottle when you took it.

“Your father must be proud of you. I heard you had your own tattoo shop.” He says as your gaze soften. Jungkook and your dad were always close, he even called him ‘son’. Your father was in fact, proud of you.

“He is”, was all you could reply, and he nods silently before taking a deep breath.

“Can I… ask you a question? I need to understand something” He frowns a little, turning his head to look at the backyard before finally glancing back at you. He is waiting for you to answer and you simply stare at him. “Why did you leave me, Y/N?”

DUST OF US MASTERLIST.

WATTPAD.

buy me a coffee<3

[teamarine777]

The assassination had gone off without a hitch. All that was left, was the escape. "What's the plan?" Forest,'s question was in ernest. This biz was new to him. Vulpin, a seasoned veteran, looked at him like he had asked who the gods were to talk to humans like they do. "Oh my gods. Forest, I know this your first time, but please try to keep up. I had us wear fancy outfits to an assassination at a fancy party. What do you think the plan is?" Forest's brow wrinkled in that cute way it always does when he's lost the plot. "Oh! We act like we were invited, and walk out the front door," Forest exlaimed, exited he'd umderstood their out. "Give the boy a prize! Now, check to make sure the coast is clear, while I cover up our involvement with fuck face over here." Vul nodded to the body, who's face was in the cracked toilet bole, blood spilling out the fractures. Forest nodded, and slowly cracked the door. "Two rich bitches, at the sink," he whispered. "Change of plans. Make it look like he fell onto the toilet." Vulpin gave the order so matter of factly, Forest didn't even think. He just nodded. Vulpin walked out of the stall. "Hey, boys. Listen. Things are a little messy, but we're not here for you. If you just stay put-" She's cut off by the sound of swords being unsheathed. "Ugh. Why did everyone her have to be Zevans?" Forest didn't know Vulpin well, but it was obvious to most that she used rhetoric a lot. Forest was cool with it, even if it was overdone. Next, Forest heard the sounds of swords clashing, two gasps, and a sigh. After positioning the body the best he could, he peeked out of the stall. Vul was fuxing her fur using the mirror. She muttered something about a comb, then saw Forest in the mirror. "Hey, bud. You get the body done?" Forst nodded, and asked, "What's the plan for those two?" Forest pointed to the two seemingly dead men on the floor. Forest noticed they weren't bleeding, and, upon closer inspection, had bruises on their heads. "I knocked 'em out. As far as a plan goes, we need to eliminate witnesses somehow, but we can't kill 'em. It'll wreak of assassins, three rich fucks dead at a party in the night." Vul turned to Forest. "The way I see it, we've only got one option; take them with us," Forest sighed. "Can't. They'd slow us down too much. We'd have to walk through the ball with two bodies. It'll never work." V spat a little blood in the sink, washing it away. "I have an idea. It's so stupid it might work." Forest was the king of that genre of stupid. "What did you have in mind?" Vul raised an eyebrow. "I'll explain, but first, promise not to embarrass me," Forest said. "Embarrass you? I'm more high class than you could dream of being," she teased. "There's blood on your shirt," Forest chuckled, before Vul was frantically cleaning her shirt.

"Please try not to embarrass me."

"Me embarrass you? I'm more high class than you could ever hope to be."

"Uh-huh. There's blood on your shirt, by the way."

[c0n-fus3d]

𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝙰 𝙱𝚘𝚢.

(Older!Powder x fem!reader)

I'm sorry but I finished ep 1 of act 3 and had to write this to get my emotions out about ekko and powder being a thing in an alternative reality bcz just RAHHHFHSHEHSHHS my gay ass is crying (no offense to the timebomb shippers, you do you!! If you like this that's cool💪💪) ENGLISH ISN'T MY NATIVE LANGUAGE, IF I MADE SOME SPELLING MISTAKES I'M SORRY ALSO SPOILERS FOR ACT 3!!

Warnings: uhhh just angst, mostly angst, this is for my girlies who might be feeling the same

༺ღ༒ ༺ღ༒ ༺ღ༒ ༒ღ༻

You've always liked Powder, every since you were kids, and still when you are teenagers.

Their was always something about her. The way she made the most creative inventions, the way she always seemed to have some sort of spark in her eyes. Her laugh, her hair, her eyes, it's hard for you to explain the feelings you have towards her.

You knew the way Vi's death was heavy on her, you could see that with the days, and soon years that came after. You we're always trying to be there to support her, make her feel a little better. You gave her space when she needed it, and we're there for her when she needed you the most.

And then there was Ekko.

You never hated Ekko, you 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 hate Ekko. he was a good guy, you got along with him. He was around Powder nearly just as much as you we're, maybe even a little more. When you were around Powder, he wouldn't take long to show up as well. You didn't mind.

But you couldn't deny that you we're jealous of him, of Ekko. The way he charmed his way into Powder's heart over the years. With his sketches, ideas, personality, kindness and understanding. You wanted what him and Powder had as if what you already had wasn't enough for you. You could see the way she looked at him, how 𝙝𝙚 looked at her the same way.

You often wished it was you instead of him. You try to forget about your jealousy, push it asside. You try to push your jealousy and selfishness asside, keep everything natural between you three. But it got harder and harder the more time went on.

Ekko has been acting strange recently, or at least that's what Powder told you. How he 'seems not to remember anything' and how he says these things about how in a dream her and Vi we're completely different. You noticed yourself too, how he was more around then usual. You assumed it was because of his project or whatever.

Now you find yourself here, on the dance floor in the last drop. Inventions around you everywhere as music and colorful lights fill the bar. You look into the crowd, trying to spot Powder. It took you a whole 5 minutes to finally spot her, but to no suprise, Ekko was there. On the dance floor, with her. Dancing together to the beat of the music like it was just the two of them. You tried to move your eyes away from the sight, let them be happy and together. But the jealousy ate you from the inside out, this all just left a bitter taste on your tongue. It all got so overwhelming so quickly, so you decide to leave the place before you explode and do something stupid.

So you decide to go out to Powder's little Hideout for now and go back once you've cooled down. You look at the massive invention across the room, stunned as fuck how they made this. You don't want to pay too much attention to it though, so you continue walking through the massive space before sitting down in front of the small memorial that Powder made for Vi.

You lighten the place up before just.. Sitting there. You sigh, looking at the picture sat on the desk. Vi always knew you had a thing for Powder, she always encouraged you to tell her how you felt. Whenever the situation was on your mind, you'd go here. You'd talk, like she was still there. Because to you, she was. To everyone, she still was. Now wasn't any different, you talked about what has been going on recently. With Ekko, Powder, and everything else.

"I just.. Don't know what to do, I know I'm supposed to be happy for them.. Ekko is a great guy, a-and if they become a thing, I'll be fine with it but.. Theirs this voice in the back of my mind that just doesn't seem to go away.." You groan, your head in your hands as you thought for a moment.

You knew you couldn't hide your feelings forever. If Powder wasn't going to feel the same way towards you, you might as well tell her what you've been feeling all this time. Just for an answer, a yes or a no. Anything. If she didn't feel anything as well then at least she'd know.

"I'll tell her, tonight. Like you always wanted me to do.. I'll.. I'll get this over with, okay? For you."

You found yourself walking back towards the last drop, but then you see Powder, going in the direction of what you knew to be the place where Vi always took her to. So you decided to follow.

If only you weren't blind enough to see Ekko walking along with her.

You climbed up to the place, heart racing in your chest as you tried to think about the things you could say. Your mind was running a million miles and you tried desperately to calm your nerves.

You we're finally gonna do it, you we're gonna tell her how you feel.

But just as you nearly reach the top, you see her. And Ekko.

Their kissing.

In front of your eyes.

Your heart dropped, hope that you knew was useless in the end shattered as you saw the image.

Wrong fucking timing. You stood there, frozen in time before quickly getting out of there. Trying to hold back the tears that we're threatening to fall.

She likes Ekko. She only likes Ekko. It was never you. Not in childhood, not in teenage years.

She likes a boy. That boy.

Your not that boy, and for now, you had to live with that.

You we're never going to being the one kissing her. It was always going to be him in the end.

[ktownshizzle]

Friends & Fools | One-Shot

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

Summary: You and Yoongi have always been just friends—inseparable since childhood, roommates in the city, partners in navigating life’s chaos. At your high school reunion, the questions start: Are you two finally together? Uh, no. But as the night goes on, and Yoongi looks at you like that, hmm—has everyone else seen something you’ve been too scared to admit?

Genre: Fluff, Suggestive, non-idol!au, reunion!au, best friends & roommates to lovers, grumpy x grumpy, when reader is more yoongi than yoongi himself

Warnings: cursing, smoking cigarettes, kissing, allusion to sex

Word count: 2.8k

Posting date: November 26, 2024

Notes: This is a one-shot to celebrate my 500 followers milestone for the blog! Just a cute little something as a thank you making this writer happy. The story was inspired by two asks: 1) lovely anon who wanted to talk about Yoongi at Jimmy Fallon; 2) kookiewithluv who sent me the softest, smiliest, fluffiest d-day Yoongi photos that I just couldn’t help myself.

Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕

Masterlist

MIN YOONGI 101 is a course you could’ve taught in school. It’s a subject matter you’ve mastered somewhere between the sandbox (when he was the kid hoarding plastic shovels in the playground) and the shoebox (the over-priced apartment that you both decided to rent together after uni).

It’s ‘cause you’ve always been good at watching him. You’ve picked up all his visual cues, his weird quirks, his tells.

Tonight is no different. From across the room, in the too-bright glare of your high school gym’s rented stage lights, you catch the tell-tale pinch of his brow, the mindless nodding that means he’s enduring yet another overly enthusiastic former classmate. Someone’s laughing too loud in his face, and he responds the same way he always does—with a small, polite smile and a glance at his drink like it’s his lifeline.

You’d know that look anywhere.

Yoongi catches your eye then, like he can feel your energy slicing through the crowd, and his lips twitch. The faintest ghost of a smirk, the kind he reserves just for you. He raises his glass, and you do the same from across the room. A silent message of we're too fucking sober to be in this joint.  He holds your gaze and you watch as he inadvertently inserts the straw up one nostril, giggling because that wouldn’t be the first time. He shakes his head and puts it back in his mouth for a sip.

It’s comforting, really. That tether between you and Yoongi.

Even if the two of you are apparently the only ones here who don’t see what everyone else does.

You are standing by the endlessly classy boxed wine on the buffet table, watching your old classmates get progressively tipsier under dim lighting. Yoongi stands next to you, unabashedly drinking whiskey straight from his flask. He looks real sharp in a tailored blazer, with a casual t-shirt underneath, mumbling earlier that day how he cannot be arsed to fiddle with a necktie, even though it’s always you who has been fixing it for job interviews, funerals, formal occasions etc. for him for the past years. Secretly you think he knew that wearing that t-shirt actually just made him look effortlessly cool.

Someone from across the room waves, and you recognize it to be Hyorin, your former lab partner who was also a cheerleader or something, making her way toward you. “Oh my God, you two!” she exclaims, beaming. “You finally got together, huh?”

Yoongi chokes on his drink, and you nearly drop your solo.

“Nooo,” Yoongi drawls, dragging the word out with a mix of disbelief and amusement.

Hyorin frowns, tilting her head. “Wait. You’re not a couple?”

You both shake your heads so emphatically it looked rehearsed. 

“Nope,” you say, popping the P.

“Not even fucking?”

The audacity of this chick, though?

“Not even close,” Yoongi answers, but his voice sounded oddly tight. 

Hyorin gives you both a skeptical once-over before laughing. “Okay, sure. Whatever you guys say.” She leaves, shaking her head like you’ve just told her the earth is flat, didn’t you know that?

They’re really starting to piss you off, ngl.

“Okay, but seriously,” Jihyo, who was in the band with you and one of the few people you’ve kept some form of contact with (hence can tolerate), hisses. “You’re really still not together?”

It was your turn to choke on your drink. “Hajimaaa! Why does everyone keep asking me that? Y’all wanna shoot your shot with Yoongi, go! I don’t give a fuck.”

Jihyo gives you a look like you’re the most oblivious person on earth. “This is exactly why I think you’re into him. Not everyone wants to date him, girl. We’re just curious about you two.”

“I—fuck you, actually. Give me one good reason why you think we’re a… thing.”

“Because you and Yoongi have been attached at the hip since we were all kids? Because you practically morphed into the same person? Because he’s literally looked at you the same way since he had that awful mushroom cut in fourth grade?”

“It wasn’t a mushroom cut. It was…” You cringe. “Yeah, it was a mushroom cut.”

You both giggle, then she asks, swirling the remains of her wine. “But seriously. Everyone thought you finally figured it out. You two moved in together a couple of months ago, no?”

“Yeah, because rent’s insane, I hate people, and he hates people, so we’re perfect roommates.”

Jihyo raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Mmhmm. Roommates. Sure.”

You roll your eyes, but the words stick with you as the night drags on, looping in your head as more classmates approach with the same comments. It’s exhausting. You’re about to grab your coat and drag Yoongi out of here when you feel a familiar figure at your side.

“You okay?” Yoongi asks, voice low, his shoulder brushing yours. 

“I’m fine,” you sigh. “Just… everyone keeps asking why we’re not dating.”

Yoongi scoffs, his tongue clicking against his teeth. “What’d you tell ‘em?”

“The truth.”

He smirks again, but it’s sharper this time, laced with something you can’t quite name. “And what’s that?”

“That you’re a chronically unavailable workaholic and are too emotionally constipated to be anyone’s boyfriend.”

He huffs a laugh, shoulders bobbing. “Ouch,” he says, but his eyes are soft, the way they get when he looks at you sometimes, warm and wistful.

You look away first, clearing your throat, suddenly remembering what Jihyo said about how he looks at you. “Well, you’re not exactly ideal boyfriend material.”

Yoongi shrugs, mouth forming a straight line. “Fair.”

Anyway, you know you’re no dream girl, either. He is just way too soft for you to say it to your face.

Between the two of you, your combined dating history looks like a collection of UN flags, except they’re all red. 

Him with his too-whiny, needy bitches, who have far too high expectations of him and he is just not the guy to validate their feelings 24 fucking 7. He has things to do (produce) and places to be (his studio).

And you, with your love bombers and commitment-phobes that have got you questioning if there’s something wrong with you because they always lose interest down the line. (Yoongi says they're all assholes btw, and you are inclined to believe him, despite lingering self-doubt.)

You always joked that no one else understood either of you the way you understood each other.

But aren’t jokes half-meant?

By the time the reunion starts winding down, you’re tipsy enough that the edges of the night feel soft and fuzzy. You’re outside, leaning against the brick wall of the building with Yoongi, his jacket draped over your shoulders because he’s simply gentlemanly like that. Raised well by his eomma who you equally adore.

“You didn’t have to stay this long,” he says, lighting a cigarette.

You watch the glow of it as he inhales, the faint tremble of his fingers in the cold. “Neither did you.”

He shrugs, exhaling a thin ribbon of smoke. “I wasn’t gonna let you suffer alone.”

Something warm pools in your chest. “Thanks. And, same.”

The quiet stretches between you, the kind of comfortable silence only Yoongi can manage. It’s strange how natural it feels, just existing with him like this. Like it’s enough.

You gesture to the stick, then he slowly brings it to your lips.

You exhale the smoke as you tilt your head back to look at the stars—or what few stars there are on this cloudy night—and ask the question that’s been sitting heavy on your tongue all night.

“Why do you think everyone assumes we’re together?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer right away, but you can feel the heaviness of his gaze on you like it’s settling on your shoulders.

“I dunno,” he says eventually, voice quiet. “Maybe because we act like we are.”

Hol’ up. “What do you mean?”

He takes another drag of his cigarette, exhaling slow. “I mean… we know each other better than anyone else. We live together. Spend all our time together. Maybe they think it just makes sense.”

Your heart stutters. “Does it?”

Yoongi stills, blinks like he’s trying to suss out where you’re going with this. “What’s up with you?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice teeny-tiny. “Just… do you ever think maybe we’ve been—”

“Idiots?” he cuts in, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

You laugh, but it’s shaky. “Yeah. That.”

Yoongi looks at you then, really looks at you, and you feel like the ground might give out beneath you. There’s something in his expression, something raw and vulnerable and scared. Like he’s standing on the edge of something, just waiting for you to push him over.

“Sometimes,” he says finally, his voice rough.

It’s not an admission, not exactly, but it’s enough to make your pulse race.

“Yoongi,” you start, but the words catch in your throat.

He snuffs the cigarette against the wall and tosses it towards the can. Then, he steps closer, close enough that you can see the faint moles on his face, the curve of his lashes as he blinks down at you.

“You wanna go home?” he asks, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.

You know what he’s really asking.

You say yes.

The walk to the subway station is quiet. Tense.

The back of his hand brushes yours as you walk along the sidewalk, and neither of you moves away.

The subway ride back to your apartment is also quiet. Tense.

Yoongi doesn’t say much, but his knee brushes yours every time the train sways, and neither of you moves away. 

By the time you’re back in your apartment, your brain is mushy and your head feels like it’s about to explode as you keep rewinding and replaying the events of the night, every classmate that alluded to your relationship, his lingering glance, sharing the cigarette, every half-formed word between you... Fuck.

Yoongi kicks off his shoes by the door, pushing it under the rack. You stand there awkwardly, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you.

“Tea?” he asks, already moving toward the kitchen.

“No.” Your voice comes out too abrupt, too sharp, and he freezes.

He turns slowly, eyes searching yours. “You ok?”

“No.” You take a deep breath, your heart pounding. “I think we’ve been avoiding this for a long time.”

Yoongi blinks, but you know he is just pretending not to understand what you meant. “Avoiding what?”

“This,” you say, gesturing between you. “Us.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then— “Mm.”

Mm. That’s all he says, like you haven’t just dropped a bomb in the middle of your tiny living room.

“Yoongi,” you say, stepping closer. “Do you—”

“Yeah,” he interrupts, nodding as he bites down on his lower lip. “I do.”

The air shifts between you, and suddenly you’re not sure who moves first, but then his warm hands are on your face and your fingers are tangled in his shirt and his mouth is on yours, and—

Oh.

Damn.

His lips are softer than you imagined—not that you spent countless late nights pining, but if you had, this would surpass every hypothetical. He kisses like he does everything else: deliberate, unhurried, sure. His hands slide down from your face to rest on your waist.

The sigh that slips from your lips is involuntary, but it’s enough for him to push further. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip, coaxing you open, and when he deepens the kiss, tasting you, it uncoils the knot that’s been tight in your belly all night. Yoongi tastes faintly like whiskey, like cigarettes, and something else so distinctly him and you’re endlessly intoxicated.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, nails grazing the nape of his neck, and the low, guttural noise he makes in response sends a shockwave through you. Heat settles in your core, spreading with an intensity that takes you by surprise. Because omg–this is not some hot stranger you met at a bar. This is your goddamn best friend, whose hand is now dangerously encroaching on the swell of your ass.

You hadn’t expected this—not the kiss, not the pleasure, not the way he makes you feel like you’re in some version of paradise.

You’re melting with every curl of his tongue, every shift in the way his lips move against yours. It’s the kind of intimacy that makes the rest of the world fall away, until the only thing you’re aware of is the feel of him—his warmth, his certainty, the way he kisses like he already knows this is how it should’ve been in the first place–a sureness you hadn’t expected. 

It’s not just passion—it’s belonging, the sense that every piece of you slots perfectly into place with him. Like the years of laughter, arguments, and everything in between have all been leading here. His hands now circling your waist feel steady, like they’ve always known where to hold you even though this is the very first time. 

And in that moment, kissing Yoongi feels like coming home—warm, certain, complete. A place you hadn’t known you were searching for, because you’ve always been with him, and now you can’t imagine ever leaving.

When you finally pull away, his lips are swollen, and his eyes are a bit moist, blinking blankly like he can’t fathom what just happened. His arms loosen their hold on you, just a bit, and suddenly, you can see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

And for a second, your stomach churns, worried that the wheels in his head are turning and it’s telling him that this was not it.

Finally he speaks. “Was that weird?” 

You huff out a breath, a cross between a chuckle and a sigh of relief, because God. Yoongi could be pressed against you, breathless and flushed, and he’d still overthink. You really belong together.

“Not weird,” you say softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “Weirdly perfect, maybe.”

He exhales sharply, relief flooding his features. “Fuck, okay. Good. Because if it sucked for you, I’d have to move out. And in this economy???”

You swat his chest, laughing again, but then his arms tighten around you again, holding you close, and the teasing fades into something softer. It’s not lost on you that this is the longest you’ve ever touched each other. Two socially awkward fools who are secretly touch-starved now finally getting what they’ve been craving for but have been too shy to admit it.

“Seriously, though,” he says, a lopsided grin decorating his lips. “What happens next?”

You tilt your head, pretending to think. “Hmm. You could still make tea if you want?”

He groans, his head dropping to your shoulder. “You’re the worst.”

"Or…" you say, sliding your hands across his chest, your fingers lingering just enough to feel his breath hitch beneath your touch. You push his blazer off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud. "We could… you know."

Yoongi lifts his head, and the look in his eyes makes your heart trip over itself. There’s heat there, sure, but beneath it lies something deeper, something that feels vulnerable. "Are we really doing this?"

And you know what he means. Because again, you know Min Yoongi inside out. And he’s known you. But now you’re ready to bare everything that’s left to discover.

"I’ve never been more sure of anything," you say, your voice steady in a way that surprises even you.

His tongue presses against the inside of his cheek, his last bit of hesitation melting away as he nods.

You step back, your movements slow, deliberate. Turning away from him, you reach for the straps of your dress and slide them down your shoulders, feeling the fabric loosen as you take a few steps toward his room. You glance back over your shoulder, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Are you coming?"

He grins, gummy and warm, and it’s so achingly Yoongi that your chest tightens. "I would hope so…"

You roll your eyes stifling a laugh, because he’s stupid, because he’s him. And because you’ve never loved (wait... what?) anyone more in your entire life. "C’mere then," you tease, the words soft, daring, as your dress slips to the floor and pools around your ankles.

He breathes out, a sound that’s almost a laugh, almost disbelief. "Okay," he says, his voice low, quiet, like he’s agreeing to something more than just this moment.

And maybe he is. Maybe this is the easiest thing in the world, the most inevitable thing that’s ever happened to either of you.

And now, finally, you’re both ready to admit it.

:)

A/N: EEEEKKKK Please tell me what you thought about the story! I'd appreciate feedback if you loved it, hated it, and if it made you feel a certain way.

Thank you for reading this you lovely, beautiful human xo 

& If you want to read more of my work, please check out my masterlist. & If you enjoy my work and want to buy me a ko-fi, I'd appreciate it.& If you want to be tagged for all future stories, you can sign up for the permanent taglist.

Permanent Taglist:

@wonh0oe @hyukaluve @glossdebut @kiki-zb @kookiewithluv

@agustblog @maryhopemei @perfectiondazesworld @kimsaerom @kam9404

@00-sleepdontweep-00 @whydoeyecare @pastelmin @tarahardcore @minjenna

@chimmchimmm @aaclariww @mar-lo-pap @tinytan-gerine @vesperbells

@butterymin @mggv97 7 @eve1633455 @baechugff @lilkittenjenjen

@wobblewobble822 @coffeedepressionsoup @marnz1990 @tea4sykes

Story-requested Taglist:

@daffodilpetals @mar-lo-pap @granataepfelchen @jajabro

[purifiedclitoris69]

Breaking point

a/n: Finally got to the nat version of silent comfort. It’s a little short tbh so sorry about that. hope you enjoy!

pairings: Natasha Romanoff x supersoldier reader

warnings: violence

You’d been with the Avengers for almost a year now, and in that time, you’d managed to carve out a space for yourself on the team. Sure, being the former Hydra experiment wasn’t exactly the most inviting introduction, but you didn’t let that define you. It wasn’t who you were anymore. You were the team’s go-to for a laugh, always cracking jokes, lightening the mood, and making it easier for everyone to handle the high-stakes pressure of their lives. What you didn’t talk about, though, was your past. Not because anyone had told you not to, but because you didn’t want to relive it.

Especially not now, when things were starting to feel... normal.

Normal was spending late nights on the couch with Natasha, arguing over which movie to watch but never finishing them because you’d get caught up in teasing each other. Normal was training together and catching her smiling at you when she thought you weren’t looking. Normal was her throwing playful jabs about how you talked too much, only to call you out on being unusually quiet when something was bothering you.

You weren’t sure when things had shifted, but somewhere along the way, the time you spent with her had become the highlight of your day. And judging by the way she always seemed to find excuses to stay close, you thought maybe—just maybe—she felt the same way.

Neither of you had said anything yet, though. It was comfortable, whatever this was, and you didn’t want to ruin it.

--------------------------------------------------------

The quinjet hummed softly as the team prepared for the mission. Hydra remnants were regrouping, and the team had been sent to intercept a high-level target.

You were double-checking your gear when Natasha sauntered over, a sly smile already playing on her lips.

"You know," she said, leaning casually against the wall beside you, "I’ve noticed you spend an awful lot of time fussing over that utility belt. Got a secret stash of candy in there or something?"

You snorted, pulling a strap tighter. "Jealous I don’t share my snacks with you, Romanoff?"

"Please," she shot back, tilting her head. "If I wanted candy, I’d just take it," she shrugged her shoulders, "I always get what I want."

You glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try."

She stepped closer, her green eyes glinting with mischief. "Careful, or I might have to prove it."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "You’re all talk."

"Am I?" She reached out, her fingers brushing the edge of your belt, and for a split second, your heart skipped a beat. But instead of taking anything, she smirked and stepped back, clearly enjoying the way you were watching her.

"Tease," you muttered, pretending to focus on your gear again.

"You make it too easy," she quipped, crossing her arms.

Before you could come up with a comeback, Steve’s voice cut through the moment. "Gear up. We’re heading out in five."

Natasha straightened but didn’t move immediately. Instead, she leaned in just enough for only you to hear. "Try to keep up out there, rookie."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face. "Try not to get distracted, Romanoff."

She laughed softly as she walked away, the sound lingering in the air long after she was gone.

--------------------------------------------------------

Though successful the mission had been thoroughly chaotic, to say the least. Things had been going smoothly until Natasha went off-script.

You hadn’t even known what was happening at first. One second, you were covering her six, and the next, she was gone, chasing intel Fury and Maria Hill had deemed critical. It left you in a tight spot, trying to hold your ground without her, and you’d taken a few hits you shouldn’t have.

By the time the mission wrapped, you were sore, bruised, and too exhausted to joke around like you usually would. The tension on the jet ride back to the compound was thick, everyone keenly aware that Steve was seething.

The hanger was suffocatingly tense as the quinjet’s ramp descended with a mechanical hiss, and everyone piled out, the weight of the mission hanging heavily in the air. Conversations were sparse—exhaustion mingled with the unspoken tension. You were still catching your breath, the fight replaying in your mind, when Steve’s voice broke the silence.

“Romanoff, we need to talk.”

You glanced at Natasha, who was walking beside you. Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t stop, striding toward the hangar floor like she hadn’t heard him.

“Natasha.” Steve’s voice carried more force this time.

She stopped, turning around slowly, her face calm but her eyes sharp. “What?”

Steve’s expression was stony as he marched toward her. “What the hell was that back there?”

“The part where we got the job done?” Natasha shot back, her voice icy.

“The part where you ignored orders and jeopardized the team,” he countered, standing toe-to-toe with her now.

You stepped closer instinctively, but for now, you stayed silent, your fists clenching at your sides.

“I didn’t jeopardize anyone,” Natasha said, crossing her arms. “I prioritized the bigger picture. Fury and Maria needed that intel, and I got it.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed. “Fury and Hill aren’t the ones in the field. We are. And when you decide their priorities are more important than this team, you’re not just making a bad call—you’re making a selfish one.”

Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t look away. “I made a call that benefited everyone in the long run. You might not like it, but it worked.”

“Did it?” Steve snapped, gesturing toward you. “Because they almost didn’t make it out thanks to you.”

Your chest tightened as his words hit. “That’s not fair, Steve,” you said, stepping in now.

He turned on you, his voice rising. “It is fair. You wouldn’t have been in that position if she hadn’t dragged you into her little side mission.”

“That’s enough,” you said, your voice low.

But Steve ignored you, his focus still on Natasha. “You know, it’s always the same with you. You play both sides, keep everyone guessing. It worked for you in the Red Room, maybe even with S.H.I.E.L.D., but here? That doesn’t fly. We’re supposed to be a team, but you’re still looking out for yourself first.”

The mention of the Red Room made your blood run cold. You saw the flicker of something in Natasha’s expression—a crack in her armor.

“Watch your mouth,” you said, stepping in front of her now, your voice dangerously calm, as you met Captain America eye level.

Steve’s gaze snapped to you, his frustration redirected. “Stay out of this.”

“No,” you said firmly. “You don’t get to talk to her like that.”

“Or what?” Steve challenged, jaw tightened, his temper bubbling over as took a step closer, eyes blazing with anger.

The moment he moved, you acted. Your hand shot out, gripping his wrist and twisting with precision. With a sharp pivot of your hips, you flipped him over your shoulder. The impact reverberated through the hangar as Steve crashed into a nearby crate, shattering it into splinters.

The hangar went silent, the sound of the crash echoing in the vast space.

Steve was already scrambling to his feet, his eyes blazing with disbelief and fury. Bucky intercepted him, gripping his shoulder and holding him back

“Steve, don’t,” Bucky said, his voice firm but calm.

Natasha was in front of you before you could react, her hands pressing against your chest as she pushed you back. “Enough,” she said, her voice low but forceful.

You froze, the reality of what you’d just done hitting you like a freight train.

You glanced around the hangar, catching the wide-eyed stares of your teammates. The expressions on their faces weren’t just shocked—they were scared. Of you.

Your gaze landed on Natasha last. Her green eyes were glassy, her brows furrowed with confusion and something that looked too much like hurt.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, your voice barely audible. Then you turned and walked away, your boots echoing in the silence of the hangar as you disappeared into the compound.

--------------------------------------------------------

The rooftop felt like the only place you could breathe. The cool night air bit at your skin as you sat on the ledge, your hands gripping the metal railing.

What the hell had you done? You’d spent so long trying to prove you weren’t the weapon Hydra made you, but one moment of anger had torn that facade apart.

“Hell of a move back there.”

You didn’t have to look to know it was Natasha. Her voice was light, but there was an edge of something else—concern, maybe.

“Didn’t mean to wreck the crate,” you muttered, still staring out at the city lights.

She walked over, her steps soft, and leaned against the railing beside you. “The crate’s fine. Steve, on the other hand…”

You huffed a humorless laugh. “Yeah, bet he’s thrilled.”

She didn’t respond immediately, just studied you with that piercing gaze of hers. “Why’d you do it? he was right, I left you out there."

You sighed, finally meeting her eyes. "I would've been fine Tasha, and I know you know that," you looked down to your lap, "besides I couldn’t stand the way he was talking to you. Like you haven’t done more for this team than anyone.”Her expression softened, and for a moment, the world felt a little less heavy. “I don’t care about your past, Nat,” you said quietly. “And I’ll be damned if I let anyone throw it in your face.”

Her lips curved into a faint smile as she reached out, her hand brushing yours. “You’re not who they made you either, you know.”

You looked at her, and for the first time all day, you felt like maybe you hadn’t completely lost yourself.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You don’t have to fight for me," her gaze dropping to your lips as you both began to lean in, " but thank you for doing it anyway," her breath fanned across you. Before you could reply, she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was well over do. Her lips were soft against yours, warm and grouding in a way that made everything fade away.

When she pulled back, she smiled—a real, genuine smile. “Now let’s go figure out how to apologize to Steve.”

You groaned, but for the first time that night, you felt like everything might just be okay.

[swaqcenix]

༻ Stardust of your soul | N. Romanoff ༺

Natasha Romanoff x gn!reader

Summary: Being new to SHIELD and it's agents you'd always kept yourself to yourself & hovered in the background. Yet a new chapter opens up when being invited to the compound for 'team bonding,' and it turns out another star shined just as you did without even knowing. Simply the trust to fall asleep on another's lap really does open up the deepest of souls.

Warnings: None! Just pure fluff & sentiment of how Natasha falls asleep on your lap..

Pairings: Natasha romanoff x gn!reader, sort of black cat x golden retriever (ish?)

Word Count: 3.8K

DC: cafekitsune

AN: I don't know where I got this idea from, but I wanted to get back to writing again, so I figured some soft reading of Natasha falling asleep on the reader's lap by accident would cut it! <3 Might make a P2!

(also if ppl can teach me how to get a sapphic relationship-)

Walking through the halls of the building always seemed daunting when you worked for SHIELD. It wasn't like you feared anyone there, just everyone was so equipped and skilled- they'd been there for a good chunk of time. Many beginning their journey's with SHIELD years before yourself, forming bonds and friendships.

You were merely a baby taking their first steps within the walls of SHIELD headquarters, simply learning the ropes & where to start. Still, you were eager to always take on a challenge and being accepted as a SHIELD agent wasn't something you'd expect to happen, yet changing that decision to take on the role wasn't even a consideration for you.

A simple few weeks at the headquarters was all it took for you to slowly begin to feel more comfortable with the said environment. You'd spoken to Maria Hill the Deputy Director of SHIELD and while she could be intimidating, she and yourself shared views similar making it easy to get on. Fury was a little more on the complex side but some of the other agents you'd definitely enjoyed bonding with.

You'd been called in to a meeting for god knows what, but that was the generalised idea these days. Most agents yourself included never seemed to be informed prior of your missions only simply assigned upon the day. It did albeit stress you out given your organised schedule and how you felt with being thrown into the deepest ends of the pool was stressful.

However, when you dedicated your time and complete energy and effort within SHIELD's walls and work you had to be prepared for anything, without fail. You'd found yourself being so lost in thought with how you'd ended up in this role and position that you'd realised you'd come to a halt.

Seeing the door to Fury's office was a surprise to your eyes, having not realised you'd walked all that way. Slowly bracing yourself, your hand reached for the door handle before it was pulled open and Nick Fury himself stood there in the flesh.

"Come on in," His voice that always sent chills down your spine seemed warmer than usual today.

It did strike you as odd but you hardly had the time to think more of it. Instead you simply merely nodded entering the room at a gentle pace, before your shoes caused a loud squeak of a sudden stop.

Your eyes glanced around the room to see people you hardly ever thought you'd be in the same room with. The Avengers, the actual known hero's themselves sat around a table as their eyes slowly drifted up to study you.

Tony, Steve, Clint, Thor, Natasha, Bruce, Wanda, Rhodey & Sam. All of them were waiting for your arrival.

Natasha let out a soft smile at you nodding an approving look, which didn't surprise you at all. You'd become accustomed to the redhead while at SHIELD given her status and her ability to train new recruits which yourself was in fact one of them.

You'd never quite been able to read her fully, only knowing she had a closed off position about her, including the past everyone was forbidden to know of. All the recruits and fellow agents knew that it was a road nobody dared cross, including interacting with the redhead outside of working hours.

Standing there waiting for Fury or anyone to say something felt like an agonising amount of time & it was making the clock feeling like minutes were passing by. In reality, it was most likely to be mere seconds before Fury coughed and began to fill the silent room with his voice.

"So Y/N.. There's been some form of talk amongst myself and the Avengers," he began and you felt your body froze.

Without the intention of doing so, you glanced over at Natasha with concern and worry glazed over your eyes. Nobody else would recognise the small but clear look she gave to you, it was something you'd come to somewhat understand. She gave you a curt but firm nod and her eyes softened only for a moment but that moment was enough. It was okay.

You felt your shoulders and body language relax a tad as you nodded towards Director Fury to continue his conversation.

"We feel that.. we need a new member to work with the Avengers. Think of it as a new position a higher role. One that we thought you'd fit most well into. More like a team bonding so you'd say."

You gawked at the older man before shaking your head back to reality as it sunk into your brain and your bones. He thought you were the best for the role? You as in just someone from a town that had nothing now working along side the Avengers, more specifically her.

"M-Me? What, there has to be some sort of mistake. Director I don't know if I-" You began stuttering over your words.

While you did admire your strengths and abilities, it was a big step to be working with the earth's mightiest hero's. You certainly didn't want to make a fool out of yourself, however Fury decided to interrupt you.

"All due respect Y/L/N, it wasn't really a request. We need you on the team. The mission that's required is going to need all the assets and best that we've got. It's important," he stated firmly looking around the room at the Avengers before moving his gaze back to you.

"Director I-"

"They'll be trained and ready. I'll make sure of it," you heard her voice echo through the room with determination.

Your eyes drifted around the room landing onto her, staring at Natasha in pure shock and partial annoyance. You knew your own weaknesses and strengths and didn't need anyone speaking for you.

However, she simply stared back at you with a firm all serious look showing she wasn't backing down. Why was she so fixated on having you on the team? Her eyes changed ever so slightly and only for a moment looking at you with something you couldn't quite place. However, in a small blink just a tiny moment the look disappeared and her normal stoic expression was back.

"Thank you Agent Romanoff. Anything anyone else has to add?" He asked looking around the room with sheer authority.

Nobody seemed to speak, Tony flamboyantly flapping his hands up to speak for them. Clearly they weren't against having you on the team, you must be some important asset they required. With nobody speaking, you were all dismissed and the Avengers all fluttered out of the room.

All except one. Natasha stood leaning against the wall, half slouching her gaze fixated onto you. Head tilted in an almost questioning way towards you. Mirroring the action, you stared at the redhead inquisitive facial expressions painted on both of your faces.

Natasha cracked first, shifting off the wall walking towards you with her hands in her pockets, her signifying black leather jacket around her shoulders.

"You know, you should have more belief in yourself Y/N. We both know your abilities, I've witnessed them myself," she added her eyebrow arching.

"I.. You think so?" You managed to get out slowly.

Without a warning she leaned forward, whispering in your ear causing your body to stiffen. With her being this close you could smell her perfume, invading your senses like a warm blanket alluring you and drawing you in. The proximity of her was sending heat to your face and you knew her voice was sending shivers down your body.

"I know so sweetheart, I know so," she hushed out and if the floor was made of lava you'd melt right through it and into the ground beneath you.

Natasha was like a temptress, a woman who knew how to lull people in just with a few simple words. You knew this but still felt yourself floating towards the singing of the siren.

She stepped back smirking at you sending you a wink causing your heart to hammer against your chest. It was like she was looking into the depths of your soul and you were trying not to give her the key to opening your soul.

Just before she opened the door to exit the room she flung her body around to face you at an angle. The tension in the room was intense, dancing around you in a heavy feeling as she spoke.

"Training starts at 7. Don't be late sweetheart. I don't do late."

With that she left the room without allowing yourself to respond and you felt an internal groan bubbling inside of you. She was seeing into your soul now you needed to try and allow Natasha to let you see her own.

Tossing and turning at night in your bed whilst the minutes passed by seemed to be what was happening for you. The clock was ticking yet you were significantly restless especially knowing training started at 7am with Natasha wouldn't settle your mind to rest.

Her words played over and over again in your head, on a constant never ending loop. 'I know so sweetheart.' You couldn't remember the last time you had that much confidence running within your veins, let alone someone else. Yet, her voice ran through your mind, your soul almost touched by her belief.

Turns out you must have been laying there for that long tossing and turning throughout the night you'd managed to not succumb to a single ounce of sleep. That perhaps would come back to be biting you on the ass at some point today. Especially if you have training with Natasha.

As your head spun to view the clock next to the nightstand, elicting a loud groan from your lips. It read the time of 6:15AM. That's always your luck, never helping with the concept of you being the polar opposite of a morning person. If anyone was grouchy in the morning it would always be yourself.

Flinging the covers off yourself, grudgingly, you found your legs dragging themselves to the bathroom to have a shower, the need to freshen and wake up becoming excruciatingly stronger by the minute.

The water cascaded down your body, a soft sigh leaving your lips. It warmed you up within the speed of light, relaxing your current running thoughts, muscles relaxing slightly. Taking a shower has always reassured your senses with its water-hug, warm and cozy.

As you dressed for the training, you slipped out of the room deciding to take a small detour around the compound. The passing of Agents in the corridor, seemingly more professional and adjusted to the surroundings of the compound than yourself.

It almost made you shrink into yourself, wanting to knock your confidence. However, Natasha's words from the previous day replayed in your head on repeat, warning your insides for reasons unexplained.

Almost as if by sheer luck you'd past the main lounge of the compound where a few of the known Avengers seemed to be sitting around. That included, Tony, Steve, Wanda and Clint. As if your presence was like a dark shadow lingering into the room, all of their heads seemed to twist into your direction.

One thing you despised being more than anything is being the centre of all attention, eyes gazing on you like you'd become to be on a stage you weren't supposed to take. It bought bile rising from the depths of your stomach up at the mere concept of it.

Yet, their gazes lingered in a none judgmental way, almost like the comfort of understanding, an overwhelming sense but peaceful. Steve was the first to speak up, nodding at you firmly but not with an intensity of malice.

"If you're after the training room, it's just down the hall. Natasha's waiting for you there. Good luck, just believe in yourself."

With a curt, but gentle nod you headed to the training room giving your best definition of a half smile. Though, it probably looked more like a grimace, unintentionally of course.

As you entered the training room, Natasha was working on her punching exercises. Each one better than the last. The glimmer of sweat trickling down her cheeks and side of her hair, shone like water in the moonlight. For a moment you almost stopped to admire her.

However, you'd clearly being staring too long considering, when you came out of your dazed trance, Natasha stood smirking at you. Her head was now tilted to the side, her crimson hair braided and cascading down her shoulders. Immediately you flushed, a sudden realisation you'd been watching her working out, like some puppy in awe of the smallest of things.

"See something that you like?" Her voice carried huskily, but with a hint of a smirk lingering causing your knees to weaken.

Why she was having this effect on you, you'd never know. Part of yourself wished the feeling would vanish, disappearing like particles of atoms into the air. Dust vanishing away, yet another piece of you thrilled for the unknown drawn, the tranquility you felt. It felt exhilarating, the need for an escape.

As your eyes drifted around the room you realised just how much equipment had been invested within the 4 walls. Several different types of equipment were laid out in different selections, ranging from treadmills to yoga mats, leg presser's, even a shooting target range.

"N-No sorry I-" You stuttered still trying to distract your gaze to anything but at the redhead whose smirk had now grown wider.

The pair of you trained for a while, Natasha teaching you combat, which albeit you weren't as talented as herself. Several times she's managed to knock you down and pin you to the ground. Which, just happened to always end up with you looking up at her both your bodies in an extraordinary comprising position.

Natasha, on the other hand never judged you. Her skills and assets were on a scale of unbelievable, making you feel as tiny as an ant. Yet, the redhead never made you feel smaller than herself. She always seemed to root for the best in you, causing you to admire her as the minutes passed on.

"You've got more talent than you know," her voice whispered during the last training session.

Her voice sent a small shiver through your body shooting down your spine, as though a melody yet to be sang was ready to be heard. A soft nod a content true smile painted your lips setting a thousand suns alight.

"Thank you, Romanoff," your voice responded a little stronger than prior.

"Hey to you, it's Natasha."

A soft giggle passed your lips and she smiled, a rare one you could have sworn in the short time including familiarities of SHIELD, had never seen cross her lips before.

"it's like before when you were training me isn't it?" You asked your mouth speaking before your brain.

She simply nodded with a hum, putting herself once again in a position of combat causing you to follow suit. Her hair was now slick with sweat, but yours was drenched. Almost as if you'd been training the whole day, yet in reality it was a simple couple of hours.

"Exactly like before. Just harder and with stronger combat skills and assets."

Before you knew it, the pair of you were back at it. Training like you'd done the several times previously. Your skills had improved remarkably. How you didn't know, perhaps it was her words and further encouragement. Her sense of purpose that brought tranquility to you an ideology of lack of judgment.

One minute you were slightly stumbling and within the blink of an eye, you had her pinned. It was like the world had stopped, her own eyes had widened in shock, your body freezing as though ice had embedded itself within your veins, shocking every atom inside you.

The Natasha Romanoff, had been pinned down onto the floor with you hovering over her. A huge sense of achievement fell over you, a joyful relief that you had finally believed something within your bones for so long.

She felt it too, winking with no insult or any sort of ruined pride. Natasha merely looked and presented herself in a way that ran through to the pit of your stomach.

You scrambled off her slightly embarrassed as reality began to hit you, considering the positions you were currently in. Helping her up, Natasha stood there hands on her hips for a moment analysing you, but for once no feeling of unease overcame you.

"Told you could do it sweetheart," she said wiping her head with a towel.

If words could make your body melt into a puddle, like snow in the winter. You would have right there. Like an icicle on a tree branch waiting for its calling of life that's how you felt. Glistening but melting into bliss.

Natasha headed towards the door, her black tank top sticking to her in a way that was sheer attractive to practically everyone undeniably. Her abs could practically be seen through the material, causing your eyes to look up towards the ceiling scolding every part of your brain.

"Oh and, same time tomorrow," Natasha stated her voice carrying a tinge of something unplaced that caused you to look up at her. Yet she's disappeared through the door before anything more could be thought of it.

That's how it continued. The form of relationship building between yourselves, training continuing everyday. Your combat becoming stronger, fighting harder each time, not only did your skills improve but also your mindset. It began to light up your moments like a firefly, shining thousands of miles into you lighting up a hope in the sky.

There were times Natasha beat you, earning a playful comment from her lips.

"Gotta be faster than that honey," she'd husk out in that voice of hers.

Yet, you never stopped enjoying your training moments, the building of an established unknown. The way you and Natasha formed was rare, unseen and unbecoming, but there was no regret. No simple doubt that you enjoyed the form of relationship the pair of you had formed.

One morning your alarm clock went off once more, 6:15AM on the dot. Making no time to convince yourself to fall back into a peaceful depth of slumber you headed to the shower. Getting ready fast in the morning had become the new norm for you.

You'd managed to get changed at the speed of light hopping around to get into your gym wear. Just as you were about to leave F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke up warning you.

"Excuse me Y/N, I was informed to let you know most of the Avengers got called out for an emergency mission. You were called to go on it but, Miss Romanoff debated otherwise."

Your heart sank, upset slightly about the lack of training. You'd become quite accustomed to the way of life in the morning, training with Natasha before amusing yourself for the remainder of the day. However, it sank further when she mentioned Natasha stated she didn't want you there.

Were you not qualified enough? Would you ever be? Your mind spiralled around with overwhelming and overthinking thoughts, like a tornado sweeping through miles of countryside. No, you couldn't do this to yourself again.

The entire day became yourself training practically with little to no breaks, until the very darkness of night emerged the atmosphere, clicking your brain into knowledge.

Taking your last shower felt less like a privilege and more like a burden. Something undeserving, especially when you're clearly not welcome on missions. However, you knew you needed it.

Eventually you'd changed into some warmer fuzzier lounge wear, settling on some grey jumpsuit. It allowed you to feel more relaxed. The feeling sent you into a deep slumber, curled into the couch in a content creation.

A form half leaning on your body caused you to almost jolt awake, but you heard a whisper next to you. For a mere few seconds your surroundings became an enemy, training become reality. Yet, as your eyes adjusted to the light around you an awareness grew within you.

The Avengers were sat down around you, watching some random Christmas film you presumed Sam chose considering the choice. Clint was sat a few feet away glancing at you contently.

"You'll wake her," he mumbled his voice lower than usual that caused an unprovoked raised eyebrow from yourself.

Following his gaze, your heart pounded harder, eyes widening in a sudden surprise. Natasha was lying on your shoulder, her body almost slipping towards your lap. She seemed more at ease than Natasha ever had before.

Like the weight of a thousand worlds, a thousand men had been lifted by one single sleep. No, a single person. You. Her hair was now loose, drifting down her shoulders, making her look almost incredibly soft and it melted every aspect of you.

"She seems exhausted," you murmured without thinking.

"She took the most hits. I know what you were thinking. Natasha she.. She didn't want you on that mission, because she didn't want you hurt. Not because she doubts your capabilities. All I could see was her guilt and want to be back training with you."

Clint's confession and confirmation sent a warmth unexplainable feeling through you. Looking deeper at Natasha, you noticed the cuts and bruises. The winces when the redhead shifted in her sleep. A shatter through your heart came hard, one you had no idea was possible as you glanced softly at the older woman.

She cared. Natasha stirred slightly her eyes fluttering glancing up at you. Her eyes met yours and in that moment it unlocked everything and anything possible. It's said eyes are window's to one's soul. The key to unlocking everything about a person there was to be done.

Glancing at her emerald eyes all you saw was stardust, the pain of stars shimmering thousands of light years away trying to find their way back. She smiled weakly, trying to pull away. However, instead you adjusted Natasha to rest her head on your lap.

A frozen form hit your lap, tense in shock before fully relaxing into your hold. A soft hum left her lips and without thinking you began to caress her hair, bringing her to a warmth blanket of safety.

"She's never like that, looks like you're something," Clint mumbled smirking causing you to roll your eyes.

Natasha wasn't just an assassin, nor an Avenger. Sure you had no doubt words would be interestingly mentioned later when she awoke. Yet for now, as you had previously gazed into her eyes, all you saw was the stars of light wanting a home. Stroking her hair was like touching the star's of the soul itself, no matter the distance they'd always have somewhere or someone to go to.

[darnell-la]

Love your work! it’s so good, i was wondering if i could request another darkpervy!Logan and reader, She’s sleeping and he sneaks into her room and does whatever, you can decide if she wakes up or not and what they do, thank you!

note: we’ve been gone for a little, but we could never not come back with a dirty, dark, and pervy Logan Howlett post.

———

Logan wasn’t the type to think about secrets the group exposes on themselves on their drunk Friday nights, but what y/n had said earlier had been in his head for the last hour.

“Is it normal to, like, pass out after you finish? I’m not joking- Shop laughing!”

Everyone took what she said as a normal dirty secret, but Logan? God, he got hard within seconds of hearing her secret.

Now the man is outside of her room, listing through the thick door for her moans. He could tell she was close.

“F-Fuck,” y/n whined as her legs began to shake. Logan did his best to keep himself back from cumming right then. Her voice was enough to make a mess in his pants.

After Logan heard a few whines that sounded low and dead, he knocked on her door. He prayed she wouldn’t answer, and thank god she didn’t.

Logan quickly entered her room, closing and locking the door before anyone saw him in the hallway.

The man slowly turned around and met y/n’s sleeping body. She really wasn’t lying.

Logan was excited, heart pounding as his cock twitched. He knew tonight would be the best night he’s ever had.

“Can smell that pussy from over here…” Logan spoke low as he came up to her bed. He thought about taking his time, maybe eating her out or jerking off over her face, but he decided he needed to be in her.

Logan quickly undressed himself before hovering over her, getting in between her loose legs to spread them apart. “So perfect,” was all he could say.

Y/n isn’t too much of a heavy sleeper after she goes out after an orgasm, but for some reason, she hasn’t woken up yet. That orgasm had been one of the top bests.

“Gonna get this done quick and easy, okay, princes?” Logan spoke as he began pushing at her entrance, instantly feeling her tighten around his shaft. Logan groaned loudly as y/n whined, slowly waking up.

Y/n spoke, but Logan couldn’t understand her. She hadn’t even known what she said. She was out of it, and that only made her look better to the man.

“Keep it down, baby,” Logan said as y/n’s head slowly began to move, but she wasn’t fully awakened. She knew something was going on, but she felt pressure in her lower stomach and head. She felt a good kind of dizzy.

“So fuckin’ wet, Bub. You weren’t gonna tell me this? I thought we were close friends?” Logan said as his hands grabbed her lower body, pulling her into his now hard and deep thrust.

Y/n’s eyes squeezed before she tried opening them. She had failed a few times until they finally opened. That meant nothing though, as they were rolling to the back of her head from the sudden pleasure.

“Feels good, sweetheart? Tell me. Tell me you feel good, y/n”, Logan growled as he looked down at her smaller girl, watching her struggle to stay awake and take him.

“Lo?” Y/n asked, which came out as a whine. “Ah huh, I’m right here, baby. It’s me,” the man assured as her hands touched anywhere to grasp what was happening to her.

“L-Lo,” y/n whined, feeling his cock slip into her with ease as she grew more wet. Now she knew she was being fucked, but her brain still couldn’t comprehend the situation.

“Don’t worry — I’m close,” Logan spoke, confusing y/n as she slowly lifted her head. The young lady focused on what was thrust in and out of her cunt, and when she realized it, she couldn’t help but moan.

“Logan,” y/n whined, eyes still on the way his cock pushed into her. “You like it?” Logan asked again as one hand rested on the back of her head, keeping her up to see the view as the other strongly gripped her waist.

“I-I don’t know,” y/n said, but lord knew she loved this. “C’mon, Bub — Tell me you like it. You take me too good not to like it,” Logan said, feeling himself near. “I-I like it,” Y/n’s low voice echoed through his brain.

“Fuck yeah — You fuckin’ like it, baby? Like me having my way with your half-unconscious body?” Logan couldn’t stop thinking about how much he loved her being this way. He never knew this was a kink until earlier today.

“I-I do,” y/n replied right before a pool of cum gushed out of her. “Oh yeah, baby — That’s what I like to see,” Logan picked his pace up, feeling his cock goat h uncontrollably.

“Once I fill you up, I won’t be able to stop,”

[carbonfiction]

Dark Desires

older, best friends dad!Logan x reader

summary: a week ago you found yourself drunk texting your best friends dad; something that should've been a mistake, but you were sure in that drunken moment that Logan would know everything you'd kept from him all those years. You'd been thinking about it for longer than you'd care to admit; adding to the fantasy. so what happens when logan finally indulges you..

warnings: Swearing, dirty talk, F!Receiving oral, PIV smut, prone bone and missionary, Somnophilla (technically??), daddy kink, roleplay?? pussy sniffing?? Kind of voyeurism? But the person is very much asleep. Also tagging this for dubcon but it’s more pre established consent/free use and slight CNC vibes depending on how you view it? Tagged this the best i believe i can but ultimately you are responsible for your media consumption.

A/N: i don't know where this came from, other than i had a glass of wine and a naughty thought. i tried real hard on this and its a little darker than i usually write- not to mention longer- but i hope yall enjoy a filth filled piece of my intoxicated brain anyway. Et voilà.

Masterlist Words: little over 4k (oop- longest thing ive ever written.. i got carried away..)

Your heart is hammering away inside of your chest so insistently that it feels like your ribs are bruised and your breasts are trying to punch their way out of your dress.

You're still wearing the stupid thing and Laura is drinking another mimosa. Part of you is grateful for that. Yet while you want her drunk and snoring tonight, part of you can't help trying to stop her.

You make eye contact, give her the look. Tell her to slow down because you two have been down this road before. She gets wild, has fun for half an hour, and then spends the rest of the night dizzy in a bathroom asking deep philosophical questions like why do my eyes hurt? And why do guys suck? And do i still have puke in my hair?

But if she's drunk tonight, just enough to sleep like the dead, then what?

You set your own drink aside to check your phone for what feels like the hundredth time this hour and lift a shaky thumb to your texts.

You've read the thread again and again and again, and still you don't quite believe it. The party swirls around you. A hurricane of sound and the smell of cocktails is sour in your nose. You feel the heat of your friends, your fellow graduates. one day lawyers, doctors, professors, professionals in their field; and yet here you are reading over the texts again.

You feel like a little girl and yet simultaneously the most grown of women because you have a secret, a dirty little secret.

You were nearly as drunk as Laura is now when you sent the first text a week ago. You were celebrating the end of finals and you were curled up in bed after a long night out.

One of your other friends had flirted with the bartender. You'd told the girl to stop and Laura had reached from her stool and pinched your leg. Asking if you'd ever needed something so badly that you actually made a bad decision.

Everyone had laughed, all except you.

You know she was teasing and complimenting in the same breath. You're a good girl and everybody knows it. Reliable, honest and never involved with the wrong kind of guys.. Always a reason to why you were too busy to bother. You were studying, too busy hanging out with Laura. Too busy prepping for school, internships and the next two decades of your life.

You're no angel, although of course, no one was. You've had your share of regrettable hookups and disappointing boyfriends, but nothing that set your world alight. Nothing worth risking anything for.

But maybe what Laura had said thread under your skin more than you'd like to admit. Maybe you were just drunk enough to ignore the obvious risk.. Or was it that you'd been thinking about him for an indecently long amount of time?

So with finals over, diploma practically in hand. There was nothing preventing years of pent up lust from sending a jolt down between your legs, setting a crackling fire in your heart and making you sweat. Dripping down your neck, stomach, that spot on your lower back, they all tingled as you crouched on the corner of your bed and wrote a single text.

You: I need something.

You sent it. Had forced yourself to before you chickened out and immediately regretted it. You thought you'd worded it in such a way that you could play it off, pretend it didn't happen.

But you were sure in that drunken moment that Logan would read those three words and know everything you'd kept from him all those years. Every dirty thought, every horny fantasy, everything.

It was all right there in the text. 2am on a Thursday night and truly it could only mean one thing. You put the phone down, tried to make yourself go to sleep.

Logan was an older man with a life. A job, house and a child- your best friend- and you were sure he wouldn't even see the stupid thing until the morning when you could say you meant to message Laura. Not him, not her father. But then you picked up the phone again, half panicked and ready to change your mind, when you'd saw those little dots.

That meant he was writing something back, at 2am on a Thursday night, either in bed or his limo.

Logan: You need to go to sleep

Of course.. Responsible. That was the responsible thing to do. And you would do just that. But first you'd just write a quick text to apologize. Say it was the wrong number and sleep this off; pretend it didn't happen for the rest of your lives.

But.. what if, for once in your life, it could be easy? What if Logan did know everything? What if.. There was something else? Because that was how this all started, hadn't it?

You'd always felt something more, saw something different in his worn eyes, his gruff demeanor. Heard something he was saying when he really wasn't saying anything at all.

Or.. Was it all in your head? Was this only ever a one way infatuation? A young woman's crush, a dark fantasy that only grew darker with each new kink you discovered in yourself? Losing all confidence, you texted back.

You: sorry. Wrong number.

And that was that- or it should've been that- If it was only ever a one way street. You put the phone down, tried desperately to keep your eyes closed, but the moment you heard the phone buzz again you peek.

Logan: Is that true sweetheart?

Oh no, no. it wasn't true at all. You knew he knew exactly who'd texted and why; what you wanted him to do. You'd been thinking about it for years. Adding to the fantasy. Soaking your sheets in the middle of the night when you couldn't sleep, all that brought a temporary relief. If only for a little while; So, you text back.

You: No

Just that. A simple No.

Logan: You telling a lie?

You: Not exactly

Logan: So you wanted my attention then?

You: Wanted? No Logan.. Need.

And yes, you know need is a very strong word.

Logan: You feel very strongly about that huh? Strong feelings can be dangerous sweetheart.

You: what if i want something dangerous.

You answered back with the most honest thing you could say. And then there was a pause, a very long pause, in which you could see no dots, and even started to wonder if he'd abandoned you. Left you on read.

A thousand images erupted in your mind, different versions of him sitting and staring at your number- your words. Those cheap reading glasses perched on his nose as he wondered if this was some kind of game.

But if it was a game.. Logan was ready to play and after a few minutes your phone dings again.

Logan: you're being a real bad girl tonight, aren't you?

And then it wasn't your best friend's father you were texting. Well, it very much was- that was the crux of it, wasn't it? But now it was also the man. The man on the other side of the phone who was paying close attention.

You: Yes, daddy. very, very bad.

Now, In the darkness of his daughter's room, You imagine colors swirling on her ceiling. Your heart restless like a caged animal and there is a knot in your stomach twisting tighter and tighter by the second.

You don't know how long you've been lying here. 5 minutes or 5 hours. But you know you can't possibly wait another moment... But then you do, because you have to.

You haven't heard from Logan all day and that makes you afraid. Really genuinely afraid that He's forgotten or changed his mind.

Because, well, it's just you and Laura in here, isn't it? You're lying on the floor, a lumpy pillow under your head, and a spare, slightly musty blanket folded under your breasts.

Laura is snoring away in her bed, her limbs tangled with a stuffed animal almost the size of her- one you'd won her from a carnival. It was like old times, she slurred drunkenly. The three of you huddled together in her bed, giggling and watching some crappy reality show.

She'd tried to get you to join her and the animal in the bed, but you'd said no. Insisted that it was too hot tonight. That you'd rather be able to spread out on the floor. Fortunately, by the time you made it up to Laura's room, she was too far gone to argue.

Unfortunately, now though, there's a very drunk girl in her bed beside you, a possible witness to your depravity. And so you lie there, staring at the ceiling and forcing yourself not to text. Not to call. To just ignore the nagging doubt in your gut.

And yet again, you still find yourself opening the text thread. Reading through the things you told him, the things he'd told you. A formed plan and line after line of you promising things. All of the 'Yes, daddy I want this' the 'Please do that to me' The repetitive 'ill be a good girl, Promise' And then, at the very bottom, a safe word. It was when you'd agreed on the safe word that you knew this was for real. Not a fiction in a book or a fantasy playing out in a movie.

The word. Kitty. An inside joke from years ago. The word proof that all the little confidences and conversations held an attraction you were both willing to hide for the sake of decency

But.. you don't want to be decent anymore. You'd confided your fantasy, one that you had dreamt so many nights. Wished for it in the hot, comfortable haven of Laura's bed every time you'd stayed over. The thought of her older, attractively gruff father coming to you in the night and making you submit to his secret lust.

Of him pulling your panties to the side while Laura slept untroubled. Logan ravishing you while you whispered and mewled 'please, daddy, make me your filthy slut'

You've always been his filthy slut, haven't you? Deep In your heart. The thought is turning the wet spot between your legs into a soggen menace. You've been horny before, You've been needy before, but never like this- because you've never tried something like this.

Never wanted something badly enough to ask for it; or even beg for it. This was a dream, a dirty desire, a secret yearning never to be true.

Then you'd drunk texted. You told him and he'd responded, not with shock or disgust, but enthusiasm, cautious enthusiasm. But it was still only text messages. You haven't spoken to him yet, not properly at least. Even when you saw him walk in at the party, or in the limo on the way back to Laura's. You couldn't bring yourself to say a word. Your mouth was so dry, cheeks so hot. Laura had laughed and said you were flushed in the backseat- a lightweight to end all lightweights- when in fact you haven't had a drop to drink tonight.

You're going to throw your phone at the wall, you swear it. But No, that would probably wake her up. Instead, you conclude that you're going to find your pants, and you're going to leave this house and never come back. You love Laura but you can't bear it, can't believe you trusted him with this. You can't lie here and torment yourself about your decisions a minute longer about your need.

Then, your heart leaps into your throat. phone dropping onto your chest with a soft thud. Quickly you brush it off and turn onto your stomach. Your head hitting the pillow, eyes squeezed shut and pulse racing like you've run a marathon.

Through your closed eyelids, you see the glow of the hall light from the open door, only for it to vanish moments later. Either the door has closed or the light's been turned off, but you're not sure which because blood is racing so loudly in your ears. Breath escaping in overwhelming gasps.

Do you hear calculated heavy footsteps or is that your imagination? You struggle to listen for Laura. Is she awake or still sleeping? The tension so tight in your chest that you begin to feel dizzy, almost nauseous. Then comes the creak of the floor at the foot of your makeshift bed, the unmistakable presence of another person in the room, their eyes on you.

You can't stop your body from trembling slightly as the sheet is softly yanked away. Adrenaline courses through your veins, making your body buzz with anticipation.

Your legs are bare the cool air of Laura's bedroom. You're laying on your stomach. Face pushed into the pillow, eyes clenched shut as if you're locked into a deep, drunken sleep- like you should be.

Your legs are splayed out, dark lacey panties riding up the crevice of your ass. One of your ass cheek's indecently exposed... then a rough touch caresses over the swell of that exposed cheek, two big exploring hands, gliding over you.

You hear the grunt of a man, and you know it can only be Logan. He's the only other person home.

Your heart is beating so hard you're afraid you're going to pass out. Laura is on the bed, sleeping mere feet away, and her father is groping you in your supposed sleep.

So the question becomes: are you dreaming now? or are you praying this is as far as he'll go?

when Logan pull's the fabric of your panties to the side, you know he's willing to go much further. He's quiet in the darkness around you, but he's big and the house is old; the floor creaking and groaning as he readjust's his heavy weight.

Your panties are roughly hiked over one cheek of your ass, the sound of ripping lace filling your ears. Logan's hot breath roll's over your ass and the tremble in your limbs becomes a full shiver.

You can feel his scruffy face so close to your body, Feel his nose against the crevice of your ass as he roves lower. Dipping further until his mouth- his nose - is pressed into the folds of your bared cunt.

You hear how he inhales deeply, toes curling in response. Your fingers lay over Laura's spare pillow, the case tight in your grip. He's smelling you, nuzzling against your dampening skin not once, but many times. Lewdly breathing in your scent like a dog that's found something it likes.

His calloused hands spread you open so he can breathe deeper still and when hes as deep into your cunt as his face will allow, his wet tongue slides out to lick at you. You cannot stifle your moan at the feeling, immediately biting your lip to keep from growing any louder.

But with this the culmination of so many fevered late night fantasies, you dont know if you are dreaming.

His wide tongue laps at your swollen clit, swiping open the seam of your pussy and to the point just shy of your tighter hole. You hear logan growl into your wet slit like a monster unleashed from beneath the bed. Feeling how how his licks grow stronger, longer and twice as ravenous as he steadily turn your pussy into a drooling, dripping mess.

He laps at you in the quiet darkness of Laura's room, calculated and experienced as you fight to not to cry out. The pressure of an impending orgasm building so tight in your body that it feels time you woke up.

And so you take a deep breath, a rough gasped sound falling out too. Your fingers claw at the pillow as you flex your lower half.

"Hmm?"You grumble, pretending to bat away the cobwebs of sleep. "Wha-whats happening, What are you doing?" You ask, voice thick with mock confusion.

Within moments you feel Logan's tongue retreat from your pussy, a weight so much heavier than your own crawl over your half naked body. You feel him pressed tight against you, still clothed if the scratchy fabric tells you anything, but an unmistakable bulge is hidden inside. Hard and large against your ass you feel Logan's arm rub against your shoulder. A big hand sliding over your mouth.

"Quiet, sweetheart" he growls in your ear. "Daddy's had enough of your teasing"

Another large hand slides beneath your sleep shirt to cup your tender tits, The nipples diamond hard against Logan's palm. You cant help but moan into his hand as you plead.

"Please. Didn't mean to tease" its a wine, petulant in tone.

"Course you didnt.. Shame S' Too late now" he whispers against your ear, teeth biting into your earlobe. The hand on your breast trails down. Right the way down to his slacks.

"B-but Laura" You warn him in a whispered panic, hearing the sound of a zipper sliding down. you struggle teasingly, hips bucking back against him. Its not enough to cause a scene or enough to wake your sleeping friend- his sleeping daughter- but just enough to make him pin your body down. Enough for you to feel a fraction of his real strength.

Logan's muscles bulge from the effort of caging you against the floor and spreading your legs.

"Nuh uh, Stay still. Stay right where ive got you" he murmurs darkly in your ear, voice a low rumble. the words fire through you like liquid lightning as you bite into his palm, not to fight but to restrain a high pitched moan that you fear could wake the neighbors- not just Laura.

"nothing you can do now sweetheart, just gotta take it" Logan says and you hear the mocking smile in the words, feel the throb of his thick cock as it emerges from the confines of his pants. "Kept telling me you were a good girl, so show me"

With your stomach flat against the ground, legs spread wide beneath him, you can do nothing but tremble as his cock slips between your legs. The cock belonging to your best friend's father sliding deliciously across that little bundle of nerves that sparks a whimper of pleasure.

Your eyes roll back as Logans hips buck, cock brushing your clit again, running up and down your slit torturously slow. "fuuuck, you feel that? How hard you've got my cock?"

You're kicking your legs now, moving your hips. It could be viewed as a struggle but its not, not really, you're just so desperately excited you can't keep still.

"Don't need to fight me baby. Just let daddy in hm? let it happen sweetheart."

And then he's pushing inside your body in one heavy thrust; slow and impossibly deep. The weight of him inside your cunt making you mewl against his palm. All the years of secret yearning, wet fantasies and subtle flirtations have all led to this moment.

It doesn't take many thrusts before your tongue is rolling out of your mouth, licking wetly against his palm like a grateful dog- a bitch in heat. You try to use it to muffle the moan that follows, a pitiful sound mixed with pleasure, like you're ashamed to be in the situation.

Used and humiliated around logans cock.

Its push followed by retreat, a half thrust and then withdrawal over and over. "So fucking tight" Logan growls as you wiggle your ass, not certain if your trying to squirm further in to his grip or out.

He's stretching your walls apart, the burn of his size delicious with each heavy he offers. Each bringing a pulsing throb on your clit. "Yeaaaa, that's it, take it like a good girl.." he groans. "S' what you wanted isn't it."

Logans right, this is exactly what you wanted and more. His body trembles atop yours from the exertion, balls squeezed against your ass, his hand on and off clenching around your breast. His thrusts picking up in pace as you struggle and squirm to keep quiet even under his palm

"L-logan" you whimper as he pushes particularly deep, pussy squelching lewdly from your arousal, his hand barley muffling the word. He knows your close before you do, can feel your cunt clenching desperately.

"Getting fucked so good your gonna cum sweetheart?" he rasps in your ear, panting into it. "C'mon, tell daddy how good his cock feels."

"S-so good.. F-fuck yes daddy, please"

You whine and It is a struggle to pry his strong hand off your mouth to get the words out.

"Go on sweetheart. Cum, coat my fuckin cock. Show me this cute little pussy is mine"

and then his big hand clamps back over your lips as he begins to fuck you into the floor. Your orgasm crashes over you in burning waves. Every stroke becoming an ecstatic agony, overstimulation starting to buzz over your bones. Its a constant struggle to hold your moans and neither of you can move properly for the risk of waking Laura .

But Logans hips remain unrelenting, Fucking you prone on your friends floor. His balls swinging, swatting unbearably at your clit with every entry. The heat of him and being trapped against the floor is almost unbearable, but so is having to keep your whimpers quiet. sweat beads hot on your brow

you can hear his own desperate attempts at staying quiet. Broken only by muffled groans, grunts of exertion, and primal chesty growls as your cunt clenches wetly around him.

Yet the discomfort of overstimulation is no match for the absolute bliss of your submission. Your toes curling so hard you're on the verge of a cramp.

The friction between your clit, Logan's cock and the floor builds to an intolerable pressure. Something must give way. The temptation to lose all control and scream his name too great. Now that possibility of you blacking out is too dangerous to ignore. So you say it the word.

"Kitty!"

Not because you want to, but because in this moment you have to. Almost as soon as the word leaves your lips and sinks into the pillow, wet from saliva and tears, you feel his body shudder. muscles seizing while a heavy groan sounding out into the skin of your neck.

"you okay?" he pants softly worry creasing his brow. "Was it too much?"

Your wordless and it worries him. Making him pull back, cock slipping free with a hushed hiss as he helps you shift onto your back, so he can look at you properly.

Your hands rise, fingers caressing his scruffy cheeks. "M'okay" you pant, eyes on him. "wasn't too much. Promise."

No, in fact, It was just right- before it all overwhelmed you that is. Now? now you just want to hold him, make love to him. Hold onto something- someone that isn't really yours. Eye to eye, your mouth slides back over his, legs spread back open, ready to welcome his length back inside. Without a word you buck your hips down, beckoning him to fuck you again.

Things are much quieter this time. Pace slowed to deep grinds rather than shallow thrusts, pleasure once again coiling in your gut as you lean up to watch his cock disappear inside.

"Feel so good sweetheart, my good girl" he coos, lips against yours as his hand slips back to cup your breast. "My good girl with a fuckin perfect body"

You keep your eyes on logan, blissful smile across your face, and for this moment he's not your best friends father. Not with the way he's gazing down at you with a mixture of lust and long held affection. "always wanted you" he whispers, hand moving back from your breast to cup your cheek. "But I would have kept that secret forever.."

You squeeze him to your chest, heart stuttering at the admission as you lock your arms behind his neck, legs tight around logans waist. You whimper back his name, a plea on your tongue.

"Want you to cum logan.. Please, need to feel it"

You want it more than anything, to feel his cum pushed inside you; for it to drip out later as a downright filthy reminder. You kiss his neck, then cheek, and finally his lips. You want Logan to claim you right here on the floor, right under her nose and you know it makes you a bad friend. Your eyes roll back, hands clawing down his chest as you feel yourself giving up all thought to the rush that flows down the center of your body. The one that begins and ends in the wet, sticky place between your legs, Where the sensitive bud of your clit pulses like a dying star.

it's then he growls much too loud, and you respond back in a whimper, lips pressing tight as you cum together in panted kisses. Him pumping hot heady ropes of cum inside your cunt without reservation or regret as you clench in a vice grip around him.

Tomorrow you will be sore, you know it for a fact. But Tonight.. Tonight You can revel in a fantasy made flesh, your flesh and Logans wrapped around each tight. You drag weak fingers down through his damp hair, then his back, feeling the way his shirt is soaked through with sweat.

Logans panting has subsided by now, breaths no longer crackling besides your ear. He plants mouthy kisses at the juncture of your neck, ever so gently, like a sated wolf nuzzling at the muzzle of his mate. You giggle quietly as those kisses grow fiercer, teeth nipping at your neck.

"my good, great, naughty girl" he murmurs against your skin, voice soft. "you feeling okay sweetheart? sure it wasn't too much?"

You nod and he can feel the enthusiasm seep from the move as you grasp his face again. "Mhm, better than okay. Was perfect" you hum sleeplily, content in his hold, in the scent of him. Your eyes flutter, lashes tickling his cheeks as you kiss him long and deep, until the rub of his beard hurts your face and sleep begins to take you under.

You both know tonight was the culmination of so many fevered dreams. The breaking point of lust and its power that can't be fully expressed in words. So he holds you close- just as you do him in your rest- for a little while longer, until light begins to filter soft through the curtains and the reality of what you'd both done really begins to set in.

thats it!! lemme know what you thought anddddd yea! asks are always open to shoot the shit, drabbles and more! <333

[jmkjournalblog]

Sweet thing (Part 1)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2000+

Summary:  A new mysterious girl appears in the Westview, capturing Agatha's attention.

A/n: I couldn't forget this plot that came to me after watching AAA so, here we go. Btw English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

Agatha Harkness leaned against her kitchen counter, nursing a cup of coffee as the morning sun painted the room in soft, golden hues. The house was quiet, save for the faint buzz of magic beneath her skin. It was always there now, a faint hum that had taken root since Wanda’s Hex wrapped itself around the town of Westview.

Agatha didn’t mind the quiet—she thrived in it. It gave her time to think, to observe, and, most importantly, to plan. The game Wanda was playing fascinated her, the raw chaos magic that maintained this picture-perfect suburban paradise a symphony only she seemed to hear. But Agatha wasn’t content to be a spectator.

Her musings were interrupted by a knock at the door, sharp and deliberate. Agatha frowned, setting down her mug. Few people in Westview came calling without reason. The nosy neighbors usually knocked too loudly, their voices pitched with exaggerated cheer. This knock was… tentative.

Agatha adjusted her cardigan and opened the door, her curiosity immediately piqued by the girl standing on her porch.

She was young, with an almost ethereal quality to her—a soft, doll-like beauty wrapped in a modest sundress and wide-brimmed hat. Her hands were clasped in front of her, clutching a basket of baked goods, and she looked up at Agatha with a shy, hesitant smile.

“Hi,” the girl said, her voice light and airy. “I’m Y/N. Wanda mentioned I should… introduce myself?”

Wanda. Of course.

Agatha smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well, aren’t you the polite one?” she said, stepping aside to let the girl in. “Come on in, sweetie. Don’t just stand there looking like a lost kitten.”

Y/N giggled softly, the sound almost musical, and stepped inside. She looked around the living room with wide eyes, as though taking in every detail with nervous curiosity. Agatha followed her gaze, watching the way her fingers brushed the edge of a throw pillow, the faint catch in her breath as she noticed the clutter of books and trinkets on the coffee table.

“You’re new in town?” Agatha asked, her voice casual as she gestured for Y/N to sit.

Y/N perched on the edge of the couch, smoothing her dress over her knees. “Oh, yes,” she said quickly. “Very new. Wanda’s been so kind—helping me settle in, introducing me to everyone…”

Her voice trailed off, and she ducked her head, as if embarrassed by her own rambling. Agatha studied her, intrigued by the girl’s bashful demeanor. Wanda had mentioned her in passing—a "sweet little thing who could use a friend." But there was something about Y/N that didn’t quite fit the mold of Wanda’s usual creations.

“Wanda’s good at that,” Agatha said, her tone light. “She loves playing the perfect hostess. But don’t let her fool you—she’s got a bit of a wild side, that one.”

Y/N giggled again, her cheeks turning pink. “I don’t think I’ve seen that side of her yet.”

“Oh, stick around, honey. You will.”

Agatha leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other as she observed the girl with casual interest. There was something almost too perfect about Y/N—the way her smile wavered just enough to seem genuine, the slight tremor in her hands as she picked up the cup of tea Agatha had poured.

“So, what brings you to Westview?” Agatha asked, keeping her tone light.

Y/N hesitated, her gaze dropping to the cup in her hands. “I guess… I wanted a fresh start,” she said softly. “Somewhere quiet, where I could figure things out.”

Agatha raised an eyebrow. “And you picked Westview? Not exactly the first place people think of when they’re looking for a fresh start.”

Y/N’s lips quirked into a shy smile. “Wanda said it was… special. And it is. It feels… safe here.”

Safe. Agatha’s smirk widened, though she quickly hid it behind her cup. If only the girl knew the half of it.

“Well, you’re certainly in good hands with Wanda,” Agatha said, her voice warm and reassuring. “And the neighbors will eat you up. They love a sweet, innocent new face.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced up, her eyes meeting Agatha’s for the briefest moment before darting away again.

The girl’s shyness was endearing, almost painfully so. But Agatha had spent centuries honing her instincts, and something about Y/N didn’t quite add up. She didn’t press, though. Not yet.

Instead, she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she gave Y/N a conspiratorial smile. “Wanda matchmaking again, huh?”

Y/N’s blush deepened, and she shook her head quickly. “Oh, no! It’s not like that. She just thought I could… learn a thing or two from you.”

Agatha chuckled, her sharp eyes gleaming with amusement. “Is that so? Well, I suppose I can be quite the teacher when I want to be.”

Y/N’s laugh was soft, nervous, and she ducked her head again, hiding her face behind the rim of her teacup. Agatha watched her for a moment longer, the faintest prickle of curiosity tugging at her thoughts.

Whatever Y/N’s story was, it wasn’t as simple as she made it seem. But Agatha could wait.

“Welcome to Westview, sweetheart,” she said finally, her tone warm but laced with subtle intent. “Something tells me you’re going to fit in just fine.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes glinting with a fleeting emotion Agatha couldn’t quite place. For now, the girl was an enigma—a puzzle wrapped in sweetness and blushes. But Agatha would figure her out.

Agatha Harkness prided herself on reading people like open books, but Y/N was proving to be an unexpectedly complex chapter. The girl had a way of weaving herself seamlessly into Wanda’s narrative, her every action a perfect blend of naivety and charm. The neighbors adored her, each interaction reinforcing her role as the sweet newcomer.

Agatha wasn’t fooled, not entirely. There was something there, lurking beneath Y/N’s soft demeanor. Something that kept her watching.

The afternoon sun bathed Wanda’s backyard in golden light as she bustled about, her hands full of gardening tools. The scent of freshly clipped grass mingled with the sweet aroma of cookies baking in the oven. Agatha leaned against the fence, watching as Y/N knelt beside Wanda, carefully arranging a row of daisies in the freshly turned soil.

"You’re a natural at this!" Wanda exclaimed, her bright smile aimed at Y/N.

Y/N laughed softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "Oh, I don’t know about that," she said, her cheeks tinged with pink. "I’m just following your lead."

Agatha arched an eyebrow, sipping from the thermos of tea she’d brought over. The girl’s humility was textbook charming, her every move designed to blend in perfectly with Wanda’s carefully constructed suburban dream.

But there was more to it. Agatha could feel the faintest ripple in the Hex whenever Y/N was near. It wasn’t enough to break Wanda’s illusion, but it was there—a subtle distortion, like a melody slightly out of tune.

"Don’t sell yourself short, Y/N," Agatha called, her voice light and teasing. "You’ve got a knack for fitting right in, don’t you?"

Y/N looked up, her smile shy as she wiped her hands on her apron. "I just want to do my part," she said.

Wanda beamed at her, clearly pleased. "You’re more than doing your part," she said, placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. "You’re already a part of this little family."

Agatha’s smirk softened, though her thoughts remained sharp. Wanda’s maternal instincts were in full swing, and Y/N seemed to thrive under her attention. But was it genuine, or was the girl playing her own game?

Later that evening, Agatha found herself on her front porch, nursing a glass of wine as the stars blinked into view. The hum of the Hex was quieter here, its magic settling into a steady rhythm as the town went to sleep.

She was about to head inside when she heard the soft shuffle of footsteps. Y/N emerged from the shadows, her arms wrapped around herself as if warding off the chill.

"Agnes?" she called softly, her voice tinged with hesitation.

Agatha straightened, her brows lifting in surprise. "Y/N? What are you doing out here so late?"

Y/N hesitated at the foot of the porch steps, her green eyes wide and uncertain. "I… I didn’t want to bother Wanda," she said. "I just… I couldn’t sleep."

Agatha gestured for her to come closer, her curiosity piqued. "Well, come on up, then. No sense standing out there in the cold."

Y/N climbed the steps, her movements careful and deliberate. She perched on the edge of the porch swing, her fingers twisting in her lap.

"Trouble on your mind, sweetie?" Agatha asked, her tone casual as she leaned back in her chair.

Y/N shrugged, her gaze fixed on the ground. "I don’t know. I guess… it’s just a lot, you know? Starting over, trying to fit in…"

Her voice was soft, almost fragile, and Agatha felt a pang of something she couldn’t quite name. She studied the girl in the dim light, the faint shadows under her eyes, the tension in her shoulders.

"Fitting in isn’t all it’s cracked up to be," Agatha said finally, her voice tinged with dry humor. "Trust me, I’ve been trying for centuries."

Y/N looked up at her, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "You make it look easy."

Agatha chuckled, swirling her wine. "Oh, honey, if only you knew."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, the quiet night wrapping around them like a blanket. Agatha found herself relaxing, the usual edge of her thoughts softening as she watched Y/N.

The girl was good—she had to admit that. Whatever she was hiding, she played the innocent act perfectly. But Agatha wasn’t about to let her guard down. Not yet.

"So," Agatha said, breaking the silence. "What are you really running from, Y/N?"

Y/N blinked, her expression startled. "What do you mean?"

Agatha smirked, leaning forward slightly. "Oh, come on, sweetie. Nobody ends up in a place like Westview without a reason. Fresh start, sure, but fresh starts usually mean there’s something you’re leaving behind."

Y/N hesitated, her fingers tightening in her lap. For a moment, Agatha thought she might deflect, but then the girl sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly.

"I guess… I’ve always been looking for somewhere I belong," she said quietly. "Somewhere I can just… be."

Her voice was so earnest, so raw, that for a moment, Agatha believed her. But there was a flicker of something in Y/N’s eyes—a shadow, fleeting and elusive—that reminded Agatha to stay sharp.

"Well," Agatha said finally, her tone softening. "You’ve got a knack for making people like you. That’s half the battle right there."

Y/N smiled, the tension in her shoulders easing. "Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Agatha watched her for a moment longer, her thoughts swirling. The girl was a mystery, no doubt about it. But if there was one thing Agatha loved, it was solving puzzles.

"Goodnight, Y/N," she said, standing and draining the last of her wine.

"Goodnight, Agnes," Y/N replied, her smile shy as she rose to leave.

As Agatha watched her disappear into the night, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was standing on the edge of something big. Something dangerous.

[natalievoncatte]

Lena didn’t mean to overhear. She was at the bar to grab a drink, and was taking it when she noticed Kara and Alex conspiring intently together. It was a private moment, a sister moment, so she shouldn’t have listened, and yet she did anyway.

“I’m sorry, Alex. I don’t want to ruin your wedding.”

“You’re not, kiddo. This isn’t the wedding, this is just a little night out. I’ll be happy if we get through the ceremony without a bridge collapse or an alien invasion or whatever.”

Everyone was having a good time. Kelly was with James, who’d come in from out of town for the ceremony tomorrow. Nia leaned back to Brainy as she made a giggling attempt to hit the dart board. The other guests were milling about, mingling and chatting and getting tipsy.

Lena felt more than a little maudlin, because Kara was hanging with Alex and that left Lena alone in the crowd.

“I’m so happy for you,” Kara was saying, “I just hope I get it myself some day.”

“You’ll find someone, Kara. You’re a beautiful, amazing person- not Supergirl, you.”

Lena pretended not to notice them, nursing her scotch. (A double, neat)

“That’s just it,” Kara choked out. “There is someone, Alex. There already is. She just won’t ever want me like I want her.”

Lena looked up in absolute shock and at the absolutely, perfectly wrong time. Alex’s eyes met hers, her expression as shocked as Lena’s was.

Rushing away from the bar, Lena headed for the pinball machines, not looking back. She downed the rest of her scotch in a coal-hot rush and it only added to the churning in her belly. She swallowed hard and her throat was instantly dry, and she cursed the afterburn of the liquor.

“You heard her.”

Lena wheeled. Alex was standing behind her, a beer in either hand. She handed one to Lena.

“You know what they say about liquor after beer,” said Lena.

“Lena, we both have advanced degrees and we both know that’s bullshit.”

That was good, because Lena downed half the brew in one long pull.

“Jesus,” said Alex. “I was trying to get you to slow down.”

“Yeah, well,” said Lena. “I’m Irish.”

Alex snorted. “You’re deflecting. You heard what she said.”

“Maybe.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “I’ve been through five fucking years of this and I’ve had enough, Lena.”

“Enough of what?”

“Kara’s wrong about your feelings.”

Lena blinked, took another pull. “How do you know she means me?”

Alex looked at her flatly.

“How do I know it’s you? Because she always rescues you. She’s always defended you. She gave you chance after chance and never gave up even when you were at your worst. Kara would die for you. A fifth dimensional imp offered to grant her wish and she didn’t wish for her planet or her parents or to have our dad back. She wished for you. For a second chance.”

“Fifth dimensional what?”

“She reversed time for you, Lena.”

Lena gaped at her.

“What do you mean? She did what?”

“She made me swear never to tell. There was a time when she was too slow, when she was already in the middle of a disaster when you got shot. She’s the only one who remembers that timeline because she fixed it. She flew at superluminal speed and went backwards in time so she could be in two places at once. Apparently a Kryptonian can do that, but she swears it can only be done the one time.”

Lena’s beer was sloshing in the bottle from the shaking of her hands.

“For God’s sake, Lena. I know you’re in love with her. You two had a bad breakup without even dating first. You spent a billion dollars to hang out with her at work. You filled her office with flowers. You let her in, you let her bring you into our family, and you forgave her for doing something really fucked up and you forgave me for pushing her to do it.”

Alex clapped a hand on her shoulder.

“Lena, sack up and go get your girl. She’s at the bar crying into a Shirley Temple because I cut her off. She’s waiting for you.”

Lena stared at her.

“Alex, I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything. Go. Get. Her.”

Lena looked at her beer, downed the last of it, and gave Alex a curt nod, marching past her.

Kara was sitting at the bar. She was dressed in skinny jeans and a loose N’Sync t-shirt and leather sandals. She was among friends here and had removed her glasses, her hair in a sloppy ponytail. She looked like she’d rather sulk at home than party.

Lena hopped on the stool next to her.

“Hey.”

“Hi, Lee. Having fun?”

“Not really,” said Lena. She waved the bartender away as he approached to offer her another drink. “I’m kind of down honestly.”

“Weddings always depress me,” said Lena. “Watching other people get all the happiness I’ll never have, basking in their joy for a while. It’s like sitting by the fire in someone else’s house, but eventually you have to go home to your own and it’s empty.”

Kara’s eyes glittered with tears. “Yeah. It does feel like that, doesn’t it?”

Lena rested her hand on Kara’s wrist.

“May I have this dance?”

Kara looked up sharply.

“This isn’t really a dancing kind of place.”

Lena snorted. “I’m a billionaire. I can do what I want.”

She slipped off her stool and offered Kara a hand.

Kelly and Alex had reunited. They were talking animatedly, and Alex pointed at Lena. Suddenly she rushed over to the jukebox as Lena took Kara’s hand and led her to an open space.

The music changes to Wonderful Tonight. Eric Clapton.

Lena was going to kill Alex.

“Huh,” said Kara.

It seemed natural that Kara would lead, being taller and more graceful by far, but Lena put a hand on her hip and rested the other on her shoulder, wondering if Kara could feel her pounding pulse through her palms.

It started with them like middle schoolers, half a foot awkwardly apart, movements jerky, but it quickly changed. Lena didn’t know who bridged that gap first but soon they were pressed body to body, Kara tilted forward to rest her forehead against Lena’s.

Lena went from chastely pressing a guiding hand to Kara’s flank to an arm looped lazily around her hips, hand resting gently against her ass. Her other hand moved from Kara’s shoulder to her neck, thumb grazing Kara’s jawline.

Kara, hesitantly, reciprocated, less dancing with Lena and more swaying with her in a meandering hug. They were so close that Lena’s head swam.

“Do you remember when you first got back from the Phantom Zone?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget,” said Kara. “When I came back and I saw you standing there, I could barely take it. You looked like an angel.”

Lena nodded gently, nudging closer to Kara until she could feel the presence of the other woman’s lips without touching.

“You looked like you wanted to kiss me.”

Kara’s entire body went briefly rigid, then relaxed.

“You could have,” Lena whispered. “You could have and I’d have kissed you back. I swear I can think of a dozen times when you were about to kiss me and I wanted it right then, I wanted it so bad.”

Kara choked back a small sob. “I remember the first time I thought about it. It was when Morgan Edge was framing you and you were so upset, you were crying. You were so sad and beautiful and soft and I wanted to kiss you right then. I wanted to make you feel better any way I could.”

“That would have been a great time.”

Kara laughed. “That would have been a good time. Maybe the best time.”

“The second best time is now.”

Lena looked up. They were holding each other now and Lena knew there were eyes on them, that their friends were watching.

Kara didn’t seem to notice or care. There was a fresh sparkle in her eyes, wide and nervous, her lips trembling in a half smile. She didn’t seem to know what to make of what Lena said, perhaps questioning if she’d heard right.

Poor Kara, her Kara, would find any excuse to steal the happiness from her own hands, to martyr herself, to seek penance for a crime that she never committed. Lena knew her guilt, felt in sing in her own soul like a kind of magnetic resonance.

Lena Luthor did not believe in silly things like soulmates or fate or destined lovers.

But she believed in Kara Danvers, and Kara Danvers kissed her. Lena barely registered it at first, so gentle was the brushing of Kara’s soft lips against her own. She gave Kara no chance to retreat into embarrassment or confusion, kissing her back so intensely that there could be no mistaking the intent. When she did, it was like seeing the stars for the first time, and a pleasant warmth pooled low in the cradle of her hips.

Kissing Kara felt like coming home.

They were staring at each other. Lena drank the sight of Kara staring at her, shocked expression full of an elation, a pure excited joy that magnified her stunning beauty a thousandfold until Lena thought she might die of pure love for this woman that she held in her arms. She went in for another kiss and this time, neither hesitated.

Alex’s voice cut through it all. “Hey, you two. Get a room.”

She was by the jukebox, grinning ear to ear despite Kelly’s scowl. Before either of them could react, Alex dropped a coin in the jukebox and played… the fucking Macarena.

“I don’t know whether to murder her or send her a gift basket,” Lena snapped.

Kara curled a finger around Lena’s chin and their eyes locked.

“Maybe we should get a room,” Kara whispered.

Lena swallowed hard.

“What are we waiting for?”

Kara took her hand, and stuck out her tongue at her sister as they left the bar.

[moomine]

backwash III | daisuke

author's note: thank you to literally everyone who’s reading this! you guys are so so sweet and i love you all <3 if you want to be part of a taglist for future updates feel free to reply or dm me!! (cover image credit)

summary: (daisuke x f!reader) Sleep is increasingly hard to find on the Tulpar. At night the reader spends her time in the cockpit, thinking about home. When she feels the whim to sleep, she ventures back to the sleeping quarters, only to bump into Daisuke. Instead, she joins him for a midnight snack and some conversation in the lounge.

word count: 2,372

warnings: no trigger warnings! all characters are 18+

now playing: Dave Bixby - "Morning Sun"

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

EMPLOYEE STATEMENT 034—

There was this movie I watched once when I was a kid, about a little girl who falls from the sky. Although I can’t remember the title of it now. I do remember that she was a part of another world, a part of something bigger. She was important. I don’t think you have us write these to talk about movies, do you? I’m sure you’d rather hear about the operations on board, or the technical difficulties, or if there’s been any damage to the cargo. You know, the “important stuff”.  Everything is running smoothly so far. Is that good?

I want to be a part of something bigger one day. Hopefully this experience will help me. I’m grateful to have this opportunity.

DAY THIRTY-THREE—

Pony Express allowed a maximum of five hours of sleep to their employees on haul. During those five hours, the Tulpar was shadowed by a veil of utter stillness. A silence not too dissimilar to that of a library, or that painful pause in awkward conversation. It was too quiet, which led you to stare at the ceiling until the fatigue of work or boredom got the better of you. Even when you could fall asleep, it was far from restful. Over the past month you had gotten the worst sleep of your entire life thus far. Worse than when you lived in those co-ed dorms with unruly neighbors and argumentative hallways. Worse than those nights thunder cracked down from the darkened sky and you clutched stuffed animals in your chubby, child hands. After a certain point, you had given up on finding sleep at all.

The computer screens within the cockpit would beep on occasion, the sound barely audible over the soft plucking of guitar strings in your headphones. The coords of some old folk song filled your ears instead. You sat in the captain's chair, curling in on yourself with your knees to your chest and arms around your person. Your head snuggled into the dip in your legs, cheek pressed your knee cap as you stared at the sea of glowing green.

Curly had given you permission not too long ago to sit in the cockpit at night. Within the first month of your apprenticeship, you had grown on him quite a bit. The captain had always been a kindhearted person. He was a people pleaser to his core, a man simply happy to help. Curly saw a lot of himself in you, and he knew what it was like to feel, well, restless.

“As long as you promise not to touch anything,” he had said, prefacing his next words with a comforting smile, “you have my permission to use your clearance to the cockpit at night. But if word gets to the higher ups, they’ll have my head, understood? We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

Normally, you tried to pay attention to how long you had been sitting there, keeping track of each song that played to count the minutes as they passed, but tonight you hadn’t. With a sigh, you reluctantly stood from Curly’s chair, deciding to give sleep another try. You slipped your Walkman into the pocket of your pajama pants and left the cockpit. Each step you took was quiet, almost imperceivable, as you walked down the hall toward the sleeping quarters. You didn’t want to disturb the others, although you had a feeling nobody else was sleeping all that well either. The rusted, trusty pipes groaned as you passed, their settling moans somehow bypassing the volume of your music. It made you feel uneasy. You reached into your pocket and turned the music up a bit in an attempt to drown out the sound. 

Rounding the corner, you finally reached the door to the sleeping quarters. Just as you reached for the door handle, it slid open seemingly on its own, causing you to flinch. Standing there—holding a flashlight in one hand and with the other placed against his chest—was Daisuke, looking far more caught off guard than you felt. You winced as he shined the light directly into your eyes.

“Holy shit, dude,” he breathed, voice dropped to a raspy whisper. “You straight up scared the hell out of me. What are you doing walking around in the dark?” Daisuke adjusted his aim and shot the beam at the ceiling instead, creating enough light for the two of you to see each other a little better.

With a soft laugh, you pulled your headphones from your ears, allowing them to hang around the back of your neck. “I’m sorry. Couldn’t sleep.”

“You too?” Daisuke questioned.

“I’m surprised anyone can sleep on this thing,” you whispered. “Where are you going?”

His eyes dropped in embarrassment as he used his free hand to rub nervous circles against the side of his neck. “I’m… I’m grabbing a snack from the lounge. You wanna come?”

“Yeah, if you want me to.” You didn’t hesitate. Anything sounded better than tossing and turning. You stepped to the side, permitting him enough space to walk out of the doorway then alongside you.

Daisuke breathed a chuckle at your response. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to.”

“Then I guess I’m coming,” you said in a hushed, playful tone.

Daisuke looked at you with a smile and nodded, shining his flashlight down the hall as the two of you began to walk in silence. In the quiet of the hall, the door to the lounge seemed to open with a deafening wheeze. Deep, royal blue illuminated the large room. The night-time window screen displayed a starry sky with wisp-like clouds, bathing the room with an otherworldly glow. It reminded you of going to the aquarium as a kid, surrounded by water and the smell of saltwater. You half expected to look up and see sharks and fish swimming overhead, but you knew all there would be was a dull, blank ceiling and slumbering lights.

Daisuke stuck his head through the doorway, peeking to see if anyone was already inside. When he determined that the coast was clear—although it wouldn’t have mattered anyway considering the noise of the door, he motioned for you to follow him inside.

“Hell yeah! The place is ours,” Daisuke celebrated, speaking louder once the door closed behind you two. He walked toward the vending machines with long, intentional strides. You tread on his heels, gaze fixed on him in amusement as he looked over the different options. 

You pulled your Walkman from your pocket, then leaned against the bar, palms pressed to the countertop as you pushed yourself up, and took a seat on the cool, brown laminate. “Is there normally someone else here?”

“Hmm?” He barely heard you, too fixated on what he was going to eat. As he processed what you had said, the words loading behind his eyes in a turning spiral, he ordered a pack of freeze-dried fruit and tore into the package. “Oh, nah. Not usually. I mean, I’ve seen Anya in here once or twice, but she’s always coming from medical bay. Getting coffee for those late nights, I guess.”

“She works too much,” you noted. “I wish she wouldn’t push herself like that.”

“You two seem close.” Daisuke approached, leaning against the counter beside you.

“Yeah. You could say that.” A tender smile graced your lips at the thought of you and Anya being close.

There was a pause, a brief lull in the otherwise newborn conversation. A series of crunches sounded from your right where Daisuke stood as he popped piece after piece into his mouth. You glanced over at him, the tenderness of your smile warping into something more entertained. He glanced over at you in turn, his mouth full of apple as he mustered a lopsided smile.

“Hey, it’s your Walkman,” he exclaimed after a swallow, pointing at the dated tech in your lap. “Whatcha listening to?”

“Oh,” you peeped with a suddenly flustered look on your face. “It’s a mix my mom made for me. Just a bunch of old folk stuff she used to play for me when I was little.”

“Can I listen?” he asked, shoving another piece of fruit in his mouth.

“S-Sure, yeah.” You unplugged your headphones and played the tape. It crackled, the old speaker not what it used to be. Or what it ever was, truthfully.

Maybe the quality of the sound would have bothered somebody else, but not Daisuke. As your small corner of the lounge filled with the sound of guitar—the stories of rural towns, first loves, and early mornings, Daisuke set his snack on the counter and listened intently. It was far from what he’d normally like, but something about listening to it here, with you made it sound perfect.

“It’s funny, actually. I never used to like this stuff back on Earth, but lately this is the only one I want to listen to,” you said over the music.

“You must really miss her.” Daisuke inched closer, standing less than a foot away from you as he leaned against the counter. His gaze flickered up to your face, quietly admiring the curves and arches of your profile. Under the blue light of the night time window screen, any blemish or imperfection on your face seemed to vanish. Not that he had ever noticed any imperfections on you. Matter of fact, for some reason, he couldn’t imagine seeing any part of you as imperfect. Even if he tried. There was a somber look in your expression as he spoke, one that made his stomach twist in knots.

“So much. I didn’t think it would be this hard being away from home.” Your voice was just above a whisper now. You felt your eyes begin to burn, the familiar sensation of tears welling in the corners as you tried to suppress the ebbing flow. With the shake of your head, you let out a quick laugh, feeling the tension gradually lifted from your shoulders. “What kind of music do you like?”

Daisuke didn’t blink or care about the change in discussion. He didn’t care about what the two of you talked about, and he wasn’t going to pry either. He knew that you would open when you felt comfortable enough to do so, and he was happy to wait however long that would take.

“A bit of everything, I guess. It kinda pisses me off when people say that and, like, they don’t actually mean it.” He slid his snack off of the bar and extended it to you, shaking it as the pieces inside rattled against each other. “I have a pretty impressive vinyl collection back home. Got everything from Etta James to Duster. You should see it sometime.”

Weakly, you smiled and took a piece of the fruit from the package. “Maybe when all of this is said and done. After the haul?”

“I’d love that,” Daisuke responded quickly, eyes trailing over your face. After another moment of silence, a brief break in conversation, he shifted on his heels and looked away. “So, you uh… you got anyone waiting for you back home? Y’know, like friends? A boyfriend? Or uh, a girlfriend? If you, like, swing that way or whatever. Which would be totally cool, obviously. I’ve got a bunch of gay friends-”

“Daisuke,” you said with a hint of that ever familiar amusement in your voice. “Relax, okay?”

He looked back at you and nodded. “Right, yeah… So, do you?”

“Friends? Yeah, a bunch. I miss them too. But a partner, not so much…” You felt your cheeks light up, a soft pink flush dusting the peaks of your cheekbones and the ridge of your nose.

“Hey, that’s cool,” he responded, bumping shoulders with you and trying not to sound too happy about your response. “Me neither. I mean, like I said, I’ve got loads of friends. Just not the whole girlfriend boyfriend thing.”

“Look at us,” you mused. “One in the same.”

“Yup, one in the same.” Daisuke glanced back at you hopefully, then looked away. He downed the rest of his dried fruit and crumpled up the package, tossing it in the direction of a nearby trashcan and missing by a couple feet. He winced, feeling a tinge of embarrassment as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You gonna go get that?” you asked jokingly, pushed yourself from the countertop, and landed on your feet, securely tucking your Walkman back into your pocket as the music stopped.

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes and walked toward the trash before picking it up and disposing of it properly. “It’s on the way out anyway. In fact, I meant to do that.”

You trailed after him, following close behind as the two of you approached the exit to the lounge. “Totally,” you teased, smiling up at him.

Yet again, the door slid open with that deafening screech as Daisuke and you left the lounge. Together, you walked back to the sleeping quarters. At the door, Daisuke turned to you and stopped. His brown eyes trailed over your features once more in the darkness, illuminated only by the light of the flashlight in his hands. Even in the blackness of the hallway, his smile was bright. His gap-toothed grin seemed almost bright enough to flood the entire hallway with light.

“Thanks for coming with me,” he spoke quietly.

“Thank you for inviting me,” you responded.

Daisuke opened his mouth as if to speak, but the words he wanted to say seemed caught in his throat. Instead, he just nodded and displayed that same smile. Your brows furrowed questioningly, an expression that made his heart skip a bit. Before you could say anything, he opened the door to the sleeping quarters and ushered you inside.

“Goodnight, [Name]. See ya in the morning.” He bit his lip, walking backward toward his room and nearly stumbling when he reached the door.

“Sweet dreams, Daisuke.” 

With that, you slipped into your room with a strange feeling in your chest. A tightness you hadn’t felt since high school, since hallway crushes and etching names into wooden picnic tables. An ache at the loss of his presence. How strange.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

pookies (taglist): @xcryptk33p3rx @freakyydaisukee @sanctuaryofsmartiess @st4rrysblog @academiq @c4t-n1pp @iiveraii

[pandapetals]

Couple Questions

You and Logan answer some cute couple questions!

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, your an english professor, logan is a history professor

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

a/n: not the usual update but I saw some couple questions on pinterest and thought you know what…im gonna do this because it’s cute. i may or may not also have headcanons for them lol.

What were your first impressions of each other?

You : grinning "I thought he was rude. He barely said hello when I first arrived at the mansion, just mumbled something and walked away like I wasn’t worth his time."

Logan : smirking "To be fair, I had a lot on my mind."

You : "But then I caught him staring at me in the library one day, and I thought, ‘Huh, maybe he’s not as grumpy as he looks.’ Turns out I was wrong—he’s grumpier.” teasingly nudges him

Logan : chuckling "You done? ‘Cause my first impression was that you talked too much."

You : mock gasp "Excuse me?!"

Logan : shrugging "But you had this fire about you. Didn’t take crap from anyone. Thought that was… different." pauses, his voice softening "And your laugh. First time I heard it, I couldn’t get it outta my head."

Describe the moment each of you knew you had feelings for each other.

You : thoughtful smile "I think it was when Jean told me Logan liked me. It just… clicked. All the banter, the little glances, the way he’d hover nearby even though he pretended not to care—it all made sense. Once I realized it, it was like… yeah, I like him too. It was terrifying and exciting at the same time."

Logan : scratching the back of his neck, pretending to look annoyed "She’s makin’ me sound soft already."

You : "You are soft."

Logan : ignoring her "For me, it was probably when I realized she wasn’t offended by my attitude. That’s when I knew she wasn’t just anyone. She was my someone."

Did either of you fight your feelings, or was it easy to accept?

You : snorting "Oh, we both fought it. He avoided me a lot of the time. I overthought everything —does he like me? What if I’m imagining it? What if I ruin our friendship?"

Logan : dryly "You do think too much. Me? I didn’t avoid you."

You : glaring playfully "You literally avoided the library for two weeks, and that’s your favorite place!"

Logan : grinning faintly "Alright, fine. Maybe I fought it a little. Was scared I’d mess things up. Didn’t think someone like you would want someone like me."

You : softly, brushing his hand "You’re an idiot for thinking that, but you’re my idiot."

When was the first time you said “I love you”? What prompted it?

You : "It was after a nightmare. Logan woke up in a cold sweat, muttering apologies for scaring me. But he hadn’t scared me—I just wanted to comfort him. And in the middle of me rambling about how it was okay, it just came out: ‘I love you.’"

Logan : quietly "Didn’t think I’d ever hear those words from someone. But when she said it, I couldn’t stop myself. Told her I loved her right back."

You : smiling softly "And then you called me a ‘damn fool’ for putting up with you."

Logan : shrugging "I stand by it."

Who is the big spoon, who is the little spoon?

You : "Oh, Logan’s the big spoon, obviously. But sometimes I’ll be the big spoon when he’s had a rough day. He pretends to hate it, but I know he secretly likes it."

Logan : grumbling "I don’t need a damn cocoon, sweetheart."

You : grinning "But you still let me."

What’s your favorite quality about each other?

You : "Logan’s loyalty. He’ll protect the people he loves with everything he has, even when he doesn’t think he deserves to be loved back."

Logan : looking at her, his voice softer "Her heart. She’s got this way of makin’ everyone feel like they matter. Like they’re worth somethin’. That’s rare."

You : teasingly "Stop, you’re gonna make me cry."

Logan : smirking "Good. Payback for all the times you make me feel stuff."

Who is the messiest?

You : raising her hand immediately "Me. Absolutely me."

Logan : snorting "Finally, somethin’ we agree on."

You : "Hey, at least I know where everything is in my mess. Your ‘organized’ piles confuse me."

Logan : "It ain’t hard, darlin’. One pile’s for weapons, the other’s for books. What’s so confusin’?"

Who sings in the shower?

You : grinning mischievously "Logan does. And he doesn’t even realize it half the time. It’s adorable."

Logan : deadpan "I don’t sing in the shower."

You : "Oh, so the other day when I walked by and heard you mumbling ‘Sweet Caroline’ under your breath, that wasn’t you?"

Logan : grumbling "I was hummin’ it. There’s a difference."

You : sarcastically "Sure, tough guy. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Who likes horror movies? Who likes romance movies?

You : grinning "Logan likes horror movies, obviously. He’ll sit there, all serious, like nothing phases him. But I swear I caught him flinch once during The Exorcist ."

Logan : gruffly "Did not."

You : "You did. Anyway, I like romance movies. Logan pretends to hate them, but he always ends up watching them with me."

Logan : smirking "That’s ‘cause I know you’ll cry, and I gotta be ready to hand you tissues."

You : rolling her eyes "And yet, who was tearing up during The Notebook last week? Hmm?"

Logan : groaning "Alright, fine. I might like some of ‘em. But don’t go tellin’ anyone."

You : "Oh, your secret’s safe with me. But I’ll totally remind you next time we watch Pride and Prejudice ."

Logan : grinning, pulling her closer "You’re somethin’ else, sweetheart."

What’s your favorite memory of us?

You:thoughtfully smiling “That’s hard to pick. But… I think it was when you planned that romantic getaway for my birthday—you bought me that dress. Or when you wrote that for me poem and gave it to me for Christmas.”

Logan:grinning faintly “You mean the one where you cried ‘cause I wrote you that little poem in the book?”

You:mock gasping “You wrote me a poem , Logan. Of course, I cried! I still have that dress, by the way.”

Logan:chuckling, his voice softer now “That was a good one. But for me? I think it’s our wedding. Just you, me, and those vows I wrote on a scrap of paper. You called me an idiot for cryin’ halfway through.”

You:sniffing dramatically “And I’ll call you an idiot for it again, but only because you cried first. You set me off.”

Logan:smirking “You weren’t even gonna cry ‘til I pulled out that damn lucky pen you gave me.”

You:“Well, yeah, it’s our lucky pen, Logan! What did you expect?”

Hugs or kisses?

You:grinning slyly “Kisses. Definitely kisses.”

Logan:raising an eyebrow “Really? I’d say hugs.”

You:blinking in mock surprise “Logan Howlett likes hugs? Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

Logan:shrugging, smirking a little “What can I say? There’s somethin’ about you wrappin’ yourself around me that just feels right.”

You:melting a little before recovering quickly “Okay, you win that one. But kisses still come with extra perks.”

Logan:grinning wickedly “Oh, I know.”

Who finds it harder to admit they’re wrong?

You:“Oh, Logan. 100% Logan.”

Logan:gruffly “What? That’s not true.”

You:glaring playfully “Logan, you once argued with me for three hours about the best way to cook eggs—only to realize you were wrong and never admit it.”

Logan:grumbling “That’s ‘cause your way still doesn’t make sense.”

You:crossing her arms “Oh, it makes perfect sense, tough guy. You’re just stubborn.”

Logan:grinning faintly “Alright, fine. Maybe I don’t like bein’ wrong.”

You:“Maybe?!”

Who’s the boss in the marriage?

You:smirking, pointing to herself “Obviously me.”

Logan:laughing softly “Yeah, you think so, huh?”

You:“Logan, who does the meal planning? The laundry schedules? Who makes sure you actually remember birthdays and anniversaries?”

Logan:grinning “Alright, you. But who fixes stuff when it breaks? Who makes sure no one bothers you when you’re havin’ a bad day? Who makes the coffee in the mornin’ exactly how you like it?”

You:softening, smiling sweetly “Alright, fine. We’re both the boss in different ways. But let’s be honest—when it comes to arguments, you fold first.”

Logan:mock scowling “Only ‘cause you give me those damn eyes. Ain’t fair.”

Who has the best jokes?

You:grinning smugly “Me. Hands down.”

Logan:snorting “Yeah, okay. But only ‘cause your jokes are so bad, they’re funny.”

You:“Excuse me?!”

Logan:grinning “Sweetheart, half your jokes are puns. Don’t get me wrong, I love seein’ you crack yourself up, but best jokes? Nah.”

You:frowning in mock offense “Fine, then let’s hear one of your so-called ‘good’ jokes.”

Logan:deadpan “Why’d the history book break up with the science book? No chemistry.”

You:blinking, then laughing despite herself “Okay, that was actually pretty good. Damn it.”

Who is grumpier?

You:“Oh, Logan. No contest.”

Logan:shrugging, unbothered “Yeah, probably.”

You:giggling “You’re basically a walking thundercloud until you’ve had your coffee. And even then, you’ve got about an hour before you start growling at people.”

Logan:smirking “That’s true, but you’re no ray of sunshine when you’re hungry.”

Who gets angry when they’re hungry?

You:immediately “Okay, fine. That’s me. But in my defense, you always know when to feed me before I get too hangry.”

Logan:chuckling “Damn right I do. Learned that the hard way on one of our first dates.”

You:giggling “Oh, you mean the time you forgot to feed me after making me hike five miles, and I almost bit your head off?”

Logan:grinning “Yup. You didn’t even wait for the food to hit the table before tearin’ into me. Thought I was gonna lose a hand.”

You:grinning sheepishly “Hey, at least you didn’t run for the hills.”

Logan:softly, leaning closer “Nah, sweetheart. I’d take your hangry self over anyone else any day.”