#swooning and never getting back on my feet

[guzhufuren]

Lele's chest moles save me. Lele's chest moles. save me Lele's chest moles

[not-neverland06]

Hey! Your writing is amazing! I’ve been checking daily for new fics lmao

I was wondering if your requests were open would you be able to write some angst with a happy ending w/ Peanut?

Perhaps a Shy!Reader who has flirty banter with Logan. They’re on a mission and Logan has to make a quick decision on who to save — Reader or Jean and he saves Jean without thinking. Reader ends up surviving with a few injuries but her and Logan’s relationship starts to deteriorate. Logan’s not good with verbal apologies so he does acts of service — bringing reader food/drinks etc. reader is stubborn and Logan starts to get frustrated. He eventually proves himself to reader.

I’m sorry if this is confusing!! I’m not creative enough to write it myself and you’re really really skilled. Love your work x

a/n: I read this request and then read them together and my brain imploded because I loved it so much, no smut in this one Summary: Logan saves Jean on a mission and it's the wake-up call you desperately needed to understand that you will never be her. You can't stand to look at him anymore and he doesn't understand why you've stopped talking to him.

“What’re you thinking of doing after this?”

You shrug, leaning back on the uncomfortable bench seats and looking over at Logan. “Not sure, got any plans?”

Logan smirks and you immediately know whatever he’s about to say is going to send you spiraling. “Yeah, whatever you’re doing, sweetheart.”

Oh. My. God!

You know you’ve got it bad when something as simple as that has you swooning. It’s so easy to fall into this routine with him, to pretend you’re more suave than you actually are. Despite your usual tendency to fade into the background, you find it nearly impossible to do with him. 

Where someone else might let you stay quiet and go ignored, he seeks you out. He makes you feel seen and heard. Some days you don’t know if you appreciate it or despise it. You laugh a little, trying to hide just how affected by him you are. “Sounds good, Lo.”

He smiles and leans back on the seat, his arm coming around the back to rest lightly over your shoulders. You can tell from the look on Storm’s face that she’s trying not to laugh at you. You can’t blame her, you’re sure your eyes have tripled in size and you look absolutely stunned. 

Flirting isn’t out of the usual for you and him. Lately, though, he’s upped the game. Touching you more than usual, spending more one-on-one time together. You can feel it all building up to something. You’re shy, not stupid, you know when a guy’s going to ask you out. 

But it feels like he’s dragging it out longer than necessary like he’s enjoying teasing you a little too much.  “Alright,” Scott stands up and moves towards the back of the jet. “We’re almost there, get ready.”

You, very reluctantly, pull away from Logan and get to your feet. He walks past you, briefly squeezing your hand before joining Scott by the ramp. You grin, flexing your hand by your side and trying to memorize the feeling. 

The ramp lowers to the ground and Scott and Logan lead the way out. You’re expecting this to be simple. Stake out the area, find some information about the people running the warehouse, and figure out what exactly it is that they’ve been doing. 

The air is bursting with moisture. It’s suffocating, how humid it is, how it makes the material of your suit cling to your skin. You know the rest of the team can feel it. That it’s irritating them just as much. 

None of you want to be out here in the peak of summer, trying to be stealthy in these ridiculous costumes. Your thighs squeak every time they rub together. It’s beyond embarrassing. You know that that’s what has you all distracted. 

You’re struggling through ankle-deep mud and sweating buckets. So none of you are paying any particular attention to the area around you. Technically, you shouldn’t have to, you’re still about a mile out from where you need to be. 

You duck, hands coming up to cover your ears as Charles’ voice screams through your mind. It’s a trap!

Even with the warning, there’s no time to prepare. The ground around you explodes, grass and dirt flying through the air. Logan grabs your arm, he shoves himself in front of you and takes the brunt of the bullets. Splatters of blood hits your cheeks and he runs you both behind a tree for cover. 

The other three have all found their own cover and they’re struggling to figure out where the shots are coming from. You spot something in the underbrush and scream, “Behind you!”

It’s more of a warning to duck than it is to move. You throw your hands up, shoving the man away from them and sending him flying into the trunk of a tree. You swear you can hear the snap of his spine as it hits the bark. 

You look to Jean and nod towards the small clearing of trees. “Don’t,” Logan warns. But you’re already slipping out of his grip and solidifying the air in front of you. It provides enough of a cover, absorbing the bullets, and giving you all time to figure out a plan of attack. 

Jean moves beside you, eyes narrowing on the perimeter of your cover. “There are too many of them, more than I can count.” 

“How did they know we were coming?” Scott snaps, keeping an eye on the area behind you. 

Your arms struggle under the weight of your power. The more bullets they shoot into your cover, the harder it is to keep up. You’re forced to absorb their energy, push it out tenfold to try and keep the blockage solidified. 

“Guys,” you snap, “we need a plan. I can’t hold it much longer.” You grit your teeth, taking a step forward to try and push against the strain. It does nothing but make your bones ache. Logan shoots you a concerned glance, coming up behind you like he wants to take the weight off your shoulders. But there’s nothing he can do. 

There’s movement behind you, a boot snapping a twig in two. You can’t risk looking back but you can hear the worry in Jean’s voice. “Ten of them-”

You can tell by the sounds of their movement that the others don’t give her much of a chance to finish. Ororo, Scott, and Logan all shoot forward to deal with the threat. Ten isn’t much to worry about. But that doesn’t change the fact that the men in front of you haven’t let up and you’re about to weep from the weight of keeping the wall up. 

Jean stays beside you, brows furrowed in concern. She places her hand on your shoulder and closes her eyes. A second later you feel something like a cool blanket laid over you. The tension in your arms and core eases just enough for you to stop clenching your jaw so hard. Some of the strain eases away and you know she’s sharing it with you. 

But just as quickly as the relief was given, it’s yanked away. Jean jumps back with a gasp, “Flux, we need to move!”

“I can’t,” you shout, fighting to be heard over the sound of bloodshed and gunshots going off in front of and behind you. The others are steadily moving through the people surrounding you, but their numbers are still overwhelming. “It’ll all come crashing down,” you tell her. 

She glances towards the bullets, finally spotting the way they’re slowly, but steadily, moving through the thickened air. The second you let go you’ll be riddled with holes. “Shit,” she hisses. “Look, we can’t stay here much longer-”

She’s cut off by a loud bang. You’re so disoriented by the noise your hands drop to your sides. At the same moment, you hear wood splintering and cracking beside you. What has to be the largest tree in the forest creaks before it begins its descent down towards you both. 

You don’t what happened, or what they used, but it doesn’t matter. The wall in front of you is fading. You have seconds to get out of the way of the bullets and the tree, you’re not sure either of you is going to make it. 

“Jean!” There’s a flash of brown hair and Jean’s being tackled to the ground, safely out of the way of the tree and bullets. You feel something stinging against your shoulder and know the first bullet’s made its way through. 

You also see the tree is almost over top of you. You’ve always been a fight response in flight or fight scenarios. But when there’s nothing to fight, when you have nothing to go up against, you freeze. It’s horrible, you know it, but there’s nothing you can do about it. 

Even as you’re desperately screaming at yourself to just fucking move, all you can do is watch as the tree topples down on top of you. “Flux, duck!” The words trigger something in your brain just soon enough to drop to the ground. 

Scott releases a red beam, blasting through the tree and knocking it off course. You don’t even register the smell of burning flesh as you lay in the mud. Your blood is rushing so fast in your veins, there’s so much adrenaline pumping through you, you can’t focus on anything except the sound of your heartbeat. 

You let out a breath of relief, slowly lifting yourself up to your knees. You don’t hear any more fighting and you figure whoever they hadn’t taken down before, the beam took care of the rest. 

You look down, checking yourself for any bullet holes or serious damage but you can’t find anything. Something warm trickles down your shoulder, it drips across your arm and down your hand. 

You look at the blood curiously, it seems to steady a flow from the simple bullet graze you’d had earlier. “Oh my god,” Jean whispers your name and you turn around with a concerned look. 

You want to ask her what’s wrong but your eyes are trained on the way Logan’s arms are bracketing her. He’s practically on top of her, only now getting up to check on you. You get it, it was a stressful situation, he acted fast. 

But that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow the lump in your throat. It doesn’t ease the burn of betrayal. He saved her, not you. He chose her even though she doesn’t want him. The anger you’re feeling only makes it harder to be aware of your surroundings. 

It’s not until Scott kneels behind you a presses a gentle hand against your back that you lurch forward with a loud cry. The pain slams down on you all at once. The wind blowing gently against your back feels like someone’s dug razor blades in your skin and ripped. 

Feet rush towards you, someone kneeling beside you and grabbing your shoulders. Logan forces you up and makes you look at him before his gaze turns to your back. “What the fuck did you do?” He practically growls, lunging towards Scott. 

He grabs him by the collar and shoves him into the dirt. Ororo and Jean leap forward, trying unsuccessfully to rip him off. You try and keep your eyes open, try and stay focused. The pain is too much, you don’t want to be awake for this anymore. Every nerve on your back feels like it’s being forcefully exposed and plucked at. 

Your brain forces a shutdown and you slump into the mud, the world going black. 

When you wake up, you’re on your stomach. You’re a little dazed, not fully remembering how you got here. You try and sit up but there’s a steady grip around your wrists stopping you. “Don’t move,” Jean warns from somewhere behind you. 

You try and look for her but you can’t move much. Your head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, stuck to the pillow beneath you. “What happened? Why can’t I move?”

Her shoes appear in front of you and then she’s kneeling down, a slightly worried look on her face. “We needed to make sure you didn’t roll over in your sleep.” Her brows crinkle and she frowns, “You don’t remember?” You shake your head minutely. She sighs, lifting her hand to your face and pressing her chilled fingers to your temple. 

The images rush towards you. You see it all from her eyes. The way Logan had grabbed her and thrown her to the ground, checking over her and not once looking at you. How Scott had tried to stop the tree from breaking your spine. His beam had just barely grazed your back as you had ducked. But it was enough for there to be serious damage. 

Through her view, you can see the way your skin had bubbled up and blistered. How horribly damaged it was. You have limited healing abilities, but it was enough to stop the nerves from being permanently damaged. 

She lets you go and you groan, the pain slowly registering in your brain. It’s dulled and you don’t know if they’ve given you drugs or if your abilities are still working to help you. “How’s Scott?” 

She chuckles and shakes her head while she undoes the restraints around your wrist. “He feels awful. He keeps coming by to check on you.”

The thought of him sitting beside you while you were strapped down to the bed makes you feel a little bad. It wasn’t his fault, he’d helped you. It was more than Logan had done for you. 

You frown, hating yourself for being bitter. If he hadn’t helped, Jean might not be here next to you. He had saved your friend. The thought didn’t bring much comfort, though. “I’m not mad at him.”

Jean eases you onto your knees and slowly helps you sit up. It causes minimal pain, but it’s still uncomfortable enough to grit your teeth and dig your nails into your palms. “I know, but he’ll probably be coming down here a lot to check on you.”

You almost ask her if anyone else has visited. If Logan had, but you don’t think her answer would make you feel any better. “He did,” she tells you and you click your tongue in irritation. 

“Out of my head,” you warn. She releases you with a small grin. “I don’t care,” you tell her, trying to appear nonchalant. 

She tilts her head, eyes narrowing on you. “Yes, you do. And I don’t need telepathy to know.” She walks towards your IV bag, fiddling around with something on the line. “He was here whenever he could be, practically lived beside you.”

“Don’t care,” you tell her again, but there’s less conviction this time. 

Jean frowns and you hate how guilty she looks. It’s not her fault he’s desperately in love with her and not you. You can’t force someone to love you or choose you. And you don’t want to. You want someone to love you for who you are, not because they couldn’t have their first choice. 

“Don’t,” you say lowly. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.”

She doesn’t get a chance to say anything before the door bursts open, both Logan and Scott sliding into your room. Scott lets out a relieved breath when he sees you. He breathes out your name and approaches with a guilty smile, “You’re awake.”

“Charles told us,” Logan informs. You offer him a brief glance before diverting your attention to Scott. 

Petty, you’re aware. But you don’t want to see Logan right now. You’d put so much effort and time into your friendship with him. It doesn’t even matter if he doesn’t feel the same way about you. You two are best friends, and he didn’t even try to help you when you needed him the most. 

So, you smile at Scott. You forgive him and you tell him you're fine. You chat with him and Jean while Logan just stares at you from the other side of your bed. You can’t make yourself face him. You don’t want to look at him, it makes you sick to your stomach.

Eventually, Scott’s guilt is slightly assuaged and he and Jean leave for the night. Logan is a heavy presence beside you, one you no longer can ignore. You shift around, pretending to fluff your pillows until he grabs your hand. 

“What’re you doing?”

You look at his hand and then at him. Whatever look is on your face is enough for him to release you and back off. “Getting comfortable,” you spit out, more venom in your voice than necessary. Something clicks for him, you can see it as it happens. 

He backs up and narrows his eyes down at you. “Right.” He frowns and sucks on his teeth, nodding his head silently. “I’ll come back when you’re feeling a little better.” You don’t miss the hidden dig underneath it all, the way he’s calling out you’re unusual behavior. 

“I think that’d be best.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, slamming the door behind him as he leaves. You jump at the noise and it makes you hiss as a twinge of pain shoots down your spine. You feel slightly guilty about the whole interaction. Then, you remember the way he’d been cradling Jean and you feel slightly vindicated. 

You’re sure he doesn’t even give a shit. He’s probably pouting in his room, wishing Jean was in bed beside him. 

What the fuck?

It’s all that’s been playing through Logan’s head since he returned from your room in the medbay. He’s waited days for you to wake up, so he can finally take a breath and let go of the anxiety that’s been plaguing him. 

He’d thought that he’d lost you in that forest. When he’d gone for Jean, he’d assumed you’d just be able to use your powers to knock the tree out of your path. Or make it melt around you. 

Honestly, he can’t put a finger on what exactly he was thinking. But he knew that you could protect yourself and that would be your priority. So he’d moved without really thinking and grabbed the person who would be collateral damage if your powers went haywire. 

And then you hadn’t saved yourself and all he could smell was your burning flesh. The smell has been stuck in his nose since you were brought back to the mansion. He can’t escape it. Everywhere he goes, he sees you burning and hears your screams. 

He’d thought that you were dead and there was a moment where he genuinely was so lost he could do nothing but watch as the others swarmed you. He couldn’t move, couldn’t help you. He could only stare at your still body and pray to anybody who could hear him that you weren’t dead. 

He didn’t know what he would do if he lost you before he ever got a chance to love you. 

He’d, irritatingly, imagined all the different ways he would finally tell you how he felt when you woke up. He’d prepared himself for every possible reaction, except this one. He hadn’t expected you to reject him before he ever got the chance to confess. 

Anger stews within him as he paces through his room. He knows that it’s unfair to be upset with you. You’d gone through something horrific and there had been doubts about your recovery. Of course, you’d act off. 

Except, you only seemed to be directing that at him. Had you been just as dismissive to Scott, the person who actually hurt you, he would have looked past it. He’s tempted to go back down and see you again, maybe try and make you see some sense. 

Instead, he decides to give you both some time to calm down. He doesn’t want to do anything he might regret while he’s pissed off. He’ll see you tomorrow and, hopefully, you’ll be back to normal. 

You’d thought Logan might have gotten the hint with how you behaved earlier. That was not the case. He’s back today and you can smell the breakfast food he’s brought you. The smell is wafting deliciously from an inconspicuous brown bag. 

But you know it’s from the restaurant that’s twenty minutes out of his way. You’re not petty enough that you can’t appreciate the forty-minute round trip he’d taken for you, but you still aren’t excited to see him. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiles at you despite your clearly hostile energy. He tugs the chair towards your bed, ripping open the bag and pulling out enough food for the both of you. 

You think it should be considered a form of manipulation to call you that while you’re pissed at him. He has such a clear effect on you. You know he’s aware of it. He knows that when he calls you something sweet like that it makes your heart race and stomach flip. 

You turn your gaze towards your blanket. You pretend the thread pattern is the most interesting thing in the world so you don’t have to look at him. You’re sick of giving your all to men who couldn’t care less about you. 

You’re tired of being the second, third, fourth choice. You want someone to choose you first for once. And you genuinely thought Logan would be the man to do that. But he’d chosen Jean. You should have known. 

“Alright,” he huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at you. You’re pissed off that he’s acting like he’s the one who was hurt. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve never been this mad at me before.”

It’s his tone of voice that really grates on you. He genuinely does not understand what he’s done wrong. He doesn’t even comprehend the possibility that you might be mad he left you to die. Have you really become such a doormat?

Yes, you’re shy and generally reserved with the people you meet. But he is so different. You two met and it was an instant connection that you thought was reciprocated. You hadn't realized that you'd become so complacent in the relationship he thought he could get away with something like this with no repercussions. 

“You left me to die,” you snap at him, voice taking a pitch it never has before. You’ve never truly gotten angry at him. Pissed off sometimes when he teased you a little too much. But you’d never plainly shown anger at him. “You fucking left me behind and expect me to, what,” you scoff and shove the food back towards him. 

“You think some shitty breakfast is going to fix this?” His face contorts. It screws up into something like hurt and you worry you might have been too harsh. He doesn’t know how you feel about him. He doesn’t know that this would hurt you so bad. 

But, it doesn’t matter. You’re still his friend. You should have at least warranted a little concern. 

Just as quickly as it appeared, the hurt is washed away by his own anger. “I thought you could take care of yourself. Isn’t that what you’re always bitching at us about?”

If you weren’t so upset you might find it funny how quickly the two of you turned on each other. Clearly, there was something repressed between the two of you. Some brewing resentment that neither of you had ever acknowledged. The words are coming quickly now, without thought.

“Fuck you, Logan,” you snap back at him. “You didn’t give a shit whether I lived or died. You only cared about your precious Jean.” You spit out her name with so much venom it stings as it leaves your tongue. 

He laughs, getting out of his chair. He shakes his head and glares at you. His anger is always a physical thing. You know he’s pacing so he doesn’t do something worse, like destroy the entirety of the room. 

“That’s what this is, you’re jealous? Don’t blame your fucking incompetence on me.” You hate the way he’s speaking to you. Like you’re a little girl who's incapable of understanding even the most basic of concepts. He has such a patronizing look on his face, you want nothing more than to wipe it off. 

The tables beside you tremble, the vases of flowers rattling against the wood. “I’m your friend, Logan. You could at least pretend like you cared about me.”

He leans against the end of the bed, tilting himself forward until he’s aggressively imposing your space. You shrink back against the pillows, narrowing your eyes in disdain. “Don’t fucking pull that shit with me. I knew that your priority would be to save yourself and I acted accordingly. This wasn’t some goddamn ploy to get into Jean’s pants. Grow the fuck up, Flux!”

You flinch back at the volume of his voice. Unwillingly, tears pool in the corners of your eyes. It’s an involuntary response. Sometimes you just get so enraged that you have no other way to get rid of it than to cry. It’s infuriating to see the moment someone stops taking you seriously and starts to think you’re nothing more than a crybaby. 

Logan’s face pales and he winces, backing away from you. “I didn’t-”

“Enough,” you stop him, voice thick with unshed tears. He never calls you by your X-men name, it’s an unspoken agreement between the two of you. That’s a formality reserved for the other members. To each other, you’re nothing more than two people who care deeply for one another. 

Or, you had been. Before this one moment had blown your life and your back up. 

“I appreciate how much faith you have in my abilities, but the fact that your first instinct wasn’t even to protect me says a lot.” You take in a deep breath and shake your head. “Thanks for the breakfast, but can you please just leave?”

He looks like he doesn’t want to. You know he doesn’t want to leave. You two never fight like this. Even if there wasn’t a lot said, it’s still not normal for you. Maybe that should have been your first hint that things weren’t what you thought. 

It’s healthy to fight, to a certain extent. Sometimes it's needed. You two never have before and you know it’s just been brewing for a while, waiting to blow up. “I-”

“Get out,” you shout, and the tables beside you finally crumble under the weight of your emotions. They drip to the ground in an inorganic form of liquid wood. “Shit,” you hiss, glancing over at them. You wave your hand and they return to their normal state, but it doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have lost control at all. 

The door slams and you look up to find the room empty. You sink back against your bed and run your hands over your face. You ignore the way the skin of your back screams in protest. 

You embrace the pain, the fiery shocks running up your nerves as the bandages chafe against the wounds. You focus on that instead of how things have ended with Logan. You always had such high hopes that he might be the one you finally man up and confess to. 

You should have known you were wrong. You should have known that it would never have ended with him picking you over her. 

You’re permitted to leave the medbay the next day. You don’t see or hear from Logan for the following week. You can’t confirm if he’s purposefully avoiding you or not but you have to believe he is. You both live in the same hall. You don’t know how it’s possible to have gone this long without even catching a slight glimpse of him. 

You force yourself to suffocate the part of you that misses him. You picture the side of yourself that longs for his presence and imagine shoving a pillow over her face. You don’t want to ache and cry over someone who doesn’t give two shits about you. 

You keep reminding yourself over and over again that when things got rough he showed you his true colors. But it’s more difficult than you imagined to just completely disregard so much history with him. 

Besides, you hadn’t realized just how little you interacted with the others until Logan was out of your daily life. It’s so difficult for you to bond with people that when you’d connected with Logan you’d latched onto him. 

It’s a little pathetic, honestly. Being grown and eating lunch alone because you only had one friend. You wonder if your feelings for him were genuine or born from a desperation not to be alone. You don’t let yourself linger on the question for long. 

It’s as your training with the students that you finally see him again. 

“Has he made much progress yet?”

Jean shakes her head and purses her lips. She watches as Billy, one of the newer students, struggles with the logs in front of him. He was a firestarter, a very inexperienced one who had only ever set his curtains on fire. 

His powers were more focused on the mental aspect of things rather than the physical. Which is why you and Jean were in charge of helping him. He couldn’t start anything on his own, he only really seemed to be able to activate the ability when he was emotionally stimulated. 

That meant whenever he was mad or sad, or anything in between, everyone in a fifty-foot radius was in danger. He was a risk to the other students and you were both trying to be gentle with him. But you’d been working with him for so long and there was so little progress. It felt like he wasn’t trying sometimes. 

He’d asked Rogue out a week ago and when she’d said no, her hair had caught on fire. You know he could have been hurt and lashed out without thought or malice behind it. But you’d seen the look in his eye. 

You’re fifty percent sure he knows exactly what he’s doing. This little act he puts on is just to get himself out of trouble. You hadn’t brought the issue to Charles yet because you’re trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

“Billy,” you call out. His head whips up and he sends you a vicious glare. You can’t help the sneer on your lips. “Just take a deep breath and try again. There’s nothing wrong with struggling, we all did.”

You put on your normal teacher voice, calm and collected. Assuring. But the little shit in front of you isn’t buying it for a second. He gives you a sarcastic little grin, “Right. Sorry, I forgot you’re a fuck-up just like me.”

“Billy!” Jean snaps, taking a step forward to reprimand him. She doesn’t get far before there’s a fireball shooting out of his palms and hurtling towards the both of you. 

There’s no chance to react before something slams into your side and is tossing you to the ground. Your head nearly snaps against the grass but there’s a hand underneath your skull softening the blow. 

You smell something smoking and look up to see a large scorch mark right where you’d just been. Jean’s standing over it, palm outstretched as she keeps the fire subdued. She gives you a worried look, “Are you okay?”

Surprisingly, yes. You glance up to see Logan hovering over you. He backs off when he notices you’re okay, getting to his knees and offering you a hand. Wordlessly, you slip your palm into his and let him help you into a sitting position. 

“You alright,” his hand hovers over your shoulder like he wants to pull you closer. But he resists, backing off and waiting for your answer. You nod your head, still a little dazed from the failed assassination attempt. 

He narrows his eyes, searching your face for any sign of head trauma. When he’s properly assured you’re okay he jumps to his feet. “Billy!” His voice booms across the courtyard and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen that little asshole scared. 

He’s barely on his feet before Logan is stalking towards him, jerking him forward by the scruff of his neck and dragging him towards the mansion. “We need to have a little talk,” the tone of his voice has you a little scared and you’re not even the one he’s mad at. 

Jean walks towards you and helps you to your feet. “Is your back okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod and brush your clothes off. You have to physically shake the shock of what happened off. “Yeah, I’m fine. I can’t believe he did that.”

Jean scoffs and glares towards Billy’s back. Your eyes widen in shock when you see the large scorch mark across his arm. “Jean! He got you, are you okay?”

She glances down at her shirt and frowns. “Yeah, practically a sunburn.” She gives you a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine.”

As shitty as this sounds, you’re not concerned for her. You can only focus on the fact that she was in just as much danger as you and Logan had tackled you to the ground. You glance back towards the mansion, more fucking confused than ever. 

You’re not sure what compels you to follow Logan, but you’re running after him before Jean can stop you. He’s barely got a minute headstart on you, you’re not sure why you can’t find him. You’d gone through every inch of the first floor. 

You don’t know where he would have dragged Billy, but it’s nowhere you can find. After about ten minutes of looking for him, you give up on the hope that you’re ever going to figure out what’s happening inside his brain. 

You let out a defeated sigh, running a hand over your face and trying to shake off the funk of the day. You can’t believe that little shit tried to roast you. You’re not comfortable with the fact that he’s just roaming around inside the mansion somewhere. 

You turn out of the living room and nearly slam into someone. His hands shoot out, grabbing your shoulders and gently stopping you. “Logan,” you give him a strained smile. “I was looking for you.” You glance over his shoulder and frown. “Where’s Billy?”

Logan sighs, his hands linger on your arms for a moment before he takes a step back. “Wheels got to him before I could do anything.”

You laugh a little, the noise involuntary. “What were you planning on doing with the sixteen-year-old?”

He doesn’t find the question amusing if his expression is anything to go by. “He was really trying to hurt you.”

His words sober you up slightly and you drop the flippant attitude. “Yeah, I wanted to,” god, it feels like you could choke on the words. Just last week you were screaming at him for not helping you. Now, you could barely thank him because he had. 

“You’re always my priority.” He tells you before you can struggle any longer. Your head shoots up and you stare at him with confusion. He groans, the noise tired and resigned. “Saving Jean was a mistake. I mean it, kid, I just thought you could handle yourself.”

You open your mouth but he stops you before you can argue. “I know, that’s not the point. I should have saved you, no matter what I thought you could or couldn't handle.”

“No,” you stop him and shake your head. “No, Logan, I shouldn’t. I,” your mouth opens and he stares at you expectantly. What you were going to say gets stuck in your throat. This is a horrible idea. 

“I liked you in a way you didn’t like me and it was unfair of me to push my expectations onto you.” You wanted it to sound better, and more intelligent. Instead, it came out in one rushed breath and you’re not sure he even understood half of what you said. 

His brows furrow in confusion for a moment before a smile breaks out on his face. You’re not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that he’s smiling. You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or about to profess his undying love. 

You don’t have to wonder for long. He moves closer towards you, leaning forward until you’re practically sharing the same breaths. Unconsciously, you’re drawn into him, hands braced gently on his chest as you chase after him. 

“What are you doing?” Your whispered words brush against his lips and he gives you a small smile. His hands travel up your waist. He tugs you closer, his other hand looping around your neck and craning you up. 

“I’m gonna choose you every fucking time, kid.” His lips brush across your own and it’s like a switch is flipped in you both. Your arms twine around his neck, pulling him down until you’re practically melting into him. 

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so different at the same time. You always thought your first kiss would be after some cheesy first date. He would have taken you out to dinner. Something would have inevitably gone wrong, you spilled something on your dress or the waiter brought the wrong order. 

You would both worry that it was a sign that nothing would work out between you. And then, at the end of the night, he’d tug you into his arms and kiss you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held. 

That would be nice, but this is better. He’s not holding you like you’re something fragile or something too precious for this world. He’s kissing you like you’re the very air he needs to survive. He’s greedy with his affections and demanding with his wants. 

You’re being consumed and devoured. And you never want to stop. This is all you’ve ever wanted with him, from him. 

Sadly, you do have to breathe. You’re the one that forces the stop, you’re sure he would have happily suffocated if it meant he could keep touching you like this. You pull back, the air coming in short pants between your parted lips. 

You can already feel them swelling, the slight irritation on your cheeks from his stubble. You don’t mind, you quite like the feeling. He speaks before you can, a pleased smile on his face. “Forgive me yet?”

You chuckle, a little impressed by how cheeky he is, still slightly pissed off. “Why don’t you do that again and I’ll think about it?”

He rolls his eyes but you can see the smile fighting against his firm glare. “You’re really gonna make me work for it, huh?”

You smile and nod, leaning into him again. “You’re never gonna hear the end of it,” you whisper before dipping down and kissing him again. You can’t believe you ever doubted just how much he cares for you. 

He didn’t choose Jean over you. He’s just a dumbass. 

a/n: I had to resist putting in a “pick me, choose me, love me” line in there bc that would have just been too much lol

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

General Taglist: @evasmlp

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

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl ♡ 

[buckyalpine]

Bucky and Alpine are my favorite duo !! He’d be such a cute cat dad . And I just imagine Alpine not being fond of company, just like her grumpy dad . And if he’s ever brought over any girl he’d always hiss and try to wack them . But when you’re in his home for the first time , Bucky is worried it’s gonna happen again . But Alpine instantly curls in your legs and purrs for your to pet her. When you sit on the couch , she follows you and nudges your jaw or hand to give her scratches and ends up falling asleep on your lap . Bucky is bewildered this is happening and his heart warms that his baby likes you . Overtime you and Alpine are inseparable and Bucky’s favorite thing is to come back home to you and Alpine curled up on the couch , giving the both of you head kisses (🐚)

I LOVE THISS. Alpine takes after her daddy 100%. Ever since he adopted her and tucked into into his leather jacket, the two have been joined at the hip. They are inseparable. It's always just been the two of them. Just her and her favorite hooman, cuddling, napping, judging anything with a pulse.

It's perfect.

Until he starts to date. Alpine hates it. The way these girls look at her daddy, swooning and giggling, always trying to take away her favourite spot; her daddy's lap. That place is reserved for her and her only. No one else gets to nuzzle into his neck or curl up on his chest. Taking up her spot on his bed is also a huge no-no. She hated how they'd squeal or screech trying to pet her or worse, pick her up for a cuddle. Disgusting. There had already been a few close calls but Alpine made sure it never went a step further. A swing of her little paw to the head is enough to send most away instantly.

Who were these strangers and why did they keep disturbing her. She hated people.

Except her daddy.

"Um-"

"Bucky if you're not sure about this, we can wait-

"No!" Bucky shakes his head, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck while you waited for him to open the door to his apartment. How was he supposed to tell you that the reason he was worried about bringing you home was because his life was ruled by his cat. That the little fluffy ball of fur controlled who went in and out of the house; anyone that wasn't him, wasn't welcome. The first dates he brought over didn't matter all too much. Bucky didn't see much of a future with them anyway so he didn't try to get his furbaby to warm up to them with a second try.

You were different.

He'd liked girls before but this time he was certain it was love. The last thing he wanted was for his 3 lb, 1ft fluffy demon to chase you away too.

"I don't want to wait, it's not that I'm not ready" Bucky nervously chewed his lip, "I guess I'm just nervous" He played it off, not wanting to worry you as he fished his keys out of his pocket.

"We can take all the time you need, Sergeant" You gave his hand a gentle squeeze with a reassuring smile, "M'not going anywhere"

Love. He definitely loved you. How he hoped his cat would be in a good mood.

-

Alpine narrowed her eyes at the door hearing more than one voice, ready to pounce on whoever walked through. The furs on her neck stood up as Bucky walked in, accompanied by his date though this was different. Her daddy didn't seem as sure of himself as he usually did. He was stumbling over his words. She was sure she could feel his body heat radiating off him from feet away. He had shy smile plastered on his face the entire time as he brought her into the apartment. In Alpines opinion, he looked like an idiot, nearly tripping over one of her mice and blushing like a school boy.

This girl wasn't like the others.

Her daddy really liked this one.

A lot.

-

As soon as you sat down, Alpine decided to introduce herself, hopping into your lap and nuding her head into your hand. You giggled, giving her a gentle scratch before setting your hand down to give her some space but she didn't seem interested in you stopping. She purred at the soft coo's you made, nuzzling her head further for more pets.

"Merp" Alpine let out a content chitter while you were none the wiser.

"She's so friendly" You whispered, not wanting to disturb Bucky's little best friend while he blinked in confusion, stunned seeing his tiny ball of havoc curled into your lap, making biscuits with her paws, a content purr rumbling from her chest.

"Aren't you a sweet angel" You whispered, continuing to pet her silky fur as she slept soundly, not realizing Bucky's jaw on the floor. "What's her name?"

"This little shit"

Your face twisted in confusion while Bucky still didn't answer your question, slowly and silently moving himself until he was at eye-level with his master.

"Hey" He whisper hissed, cocking an eyebrow when she reluctantly opened one eye, "Alp, you little shit"

"Merp" Alpine gave Bucky's cheek a light swat of her paw before cuddling up further into your lap leaving you in stitches.

"I see she owns you" You giggled while Bucky shook his head, butterflies already erupting in his tummy. He already knew you were special but if Alpine liked you, that was something else. Seeing his baby fall in love with you the way he did sealed it all. It became something Bucky never got tired of seeing; his precious little angel doting and cuddling up with the girl of his dreams. Whenever you were around, Alpine was instantly in your lap or in your arms, the two of you inseparable.

-

"Doll? Alpline?" Bucky called as he dropped his bag at the front door, toeing his boots off and stretching before making his way to the living room.

"My girls" he smiled, finding you both curled up with your favourite show on, Alpine sleeping on top of the soft blanket you were wrapped in, "How are you babygirl" Bucky leaned down to kiss the top of your head before kneeling down so he could give his fur baby one as well, "And you, princess"

"We missed you" You gave Bucky grabby hands, sighing happily as he wrapped you up in his arms, holding you extra tight before setting you back down.

"Not as much as me. I'll shower and we'll get some dinner" Bucky tucked you back in your blanket before scooping up Alpine in his arms for an extra cuddle, "Daddy missed you princess, shhh" Bucky shushed her discontent meowing as she was taken away from you. Her tail swished as he plopped her onto the bed and quickly showered, rustling from his bag before pulling out a little bag and a tiny box.

"Ready to surprise mommy?" Bucky whispered, fastening a red collar onto his cat and tying a ring that would sit under her chin with a little handwritten note. He picked up Alpine and set her on her way back to you before nervously wiping his hands against his jeans, taking a deep breath.

"What do you have there baby" Bucky could hear your voice from the living room, followed by a gasp. He took one final breath before making his way over.

He couldn't wait to marry you.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

The Alley (and Your Boyfriend?)

Minors, ageless and blank blogs do not interact. Smut written with AFAB reader in mind. ~2.8k words

Jason Todd is your ex-boyfriend. Kind of. You dated, yeah, sure. But it was in high school, years ago now. You had moved away before the school year had finished, and both of you agreed to remain friends, to keep in touch.

Life had different plans for both of you. The last time you had been in Gotham was for his funeral, so you think you deserve some leeway if you're staring at the man across the bar who looks just like him. Well, not exactly like him.

You're supposed to be celebrating your new job in Gotham, the apartment you've finally unpacked with your friends, but his eyes.

You could never forget the color of Jason Todd's eyes. Not when he was your first everything. Not when you know how his eyes would glint before he stole a kiss. How they would shine as he whispered sweet nothings and pretty promises.

(Okay, so maybe he was more to you than you're willing to admit. Maybe he wasn't just kind of your boyfriend.)

You'd probably be lost in thought over the color of his eyes for the rest of night, if his gaze didn't happen to meet yours.

Heat spreads across your face, and you duck your head. Shit. He caught you staring. The big, attractive man across the bar who has the eyes of your dead ex-boyfriend caught you staring.

That's fine. Mortifying, yes, but you quickly focus back on whatever your friends are talking about, trying to play it off.

You're finishing your drink, hoping he brushed you off, when a low voice cuts in, "Can I buy you another drink?"

Your eyes snap up to meet Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Your train of thought halts to a stop, he's ever prettier up close.

Before you've even managed to find your words, your friends are pushing you up and out of your seat, scrambling over each other to agree that he can absolutely buy you a drink.

He tilts his head a little at you, feet firmly planted against the ground as he waits for you to answer, "Is that a yes from you, doll?"

"I– yes. Thanks," You stumble out, and you might have gone a little weak in the knees at his grin.

He guides you over to the bar, and holds up two fingers as the bartender comes over. "Whiskey, and whatever they want."

You ask for a refill of your drink and sit beside him at the bar before introducing yourself.

He raises an eyebrow at you, "I'm Jason."

"My ex was named Jason," You blurt out, then wince. That's probably not what anyone wants to hear when they're introducing themselves. And it's definitely not what they want to hear while trying to pick someone up at a bar.

He hums thoughtfully, "I don't remember breaking up with you."

You blink at him, is that some kind of a pick-up line? "No, I meant, I really dated someone named Jason in high school."

He grins at you, "I know. I was there."

You frown a little, "Like in the same class?"

He laughs. It's a really pretty sound, if you weren't so confused, you would have swooned, "No, doll. Don't tell me you don't recognize me?"

Your gaze hardens, "If this is some kind of a joke–"

He says your name, effectively cutting you off, "It's me."

"He died," You murmur, so quiet it almost gets lost under the beat of the music.

He shrugs, and pushes your drink towards you as the bartender sets it down, "I got better."

"Prove it," You retort, fingers tapping the glass of your drink. You're this close to up and leaving. It makes your stomach churn, not knowing what game this man is playing.

He gives you a familiar, lopsided grin, "Prove that I got better?"

You scoff and go to stand up, but you waver at how he actually seems upset over it.

"Hey, hey, wait," he protests, holding out an arm to block you from leaving, "We had our first kiss in the back of Wayne Manor, in that old gazebo covered in vines. You asked me out because I was so obviously head over heels for ya, but I was too scared to ask. You said you'd wait for me when your family moved, and I said I'd wait for you too."

Your breath hitches at his rambling, it's–all of it is true. Memories you held close to your chest but never let yourself relive because of how much they hurt, the bittersweetness of it all. "Jason," You breathe out.

He relaxes, and smiles at you, "Yeah."

"How are you..." You trail off, taking in every inch of him. How much he's grown. How much he's changed.

He rubs the back of his neck, "It's, uh, a long story. It's not very nice either."

You nod slowly, "We don't have to talk about it."

He looks genuinely surprised, "We don't?"

"No, it's just good to, you know, see you," You tell him. It's the truth, whatever story he's carrying, whatever events brought him here, doesn't really matter right now. Not as long as he's alive and in front of you.

"It's good to see you too," Jason tells you, and you feel butterflies when he reaches over to touch your thigh, "Hey, am I really your ex?"

The absurdity of the question makes you want to laugh, "It has been a while since we talked, Jason."

You do giggle when he actually pouts at you, "You said you'd come back to Gotham for me one day."

"I am back in Gotham," You point out, "Got an apartment here and everything."

Interest sparks in his eyes, "Yeah? You're staying around here?"

You hum noncommittally, "In Gotham at least."

It surprises you, how easy it is to slip back into a flowing conversation with him. You reminisce about your shared past, he asks you what you've been up to, how your life has been, and before you know it, your drinks are empty and the bar is informing you of it's last call.

"Can I walk you home," Jason asks, hovering at your side, "or call you a ride?"

Your friends had long since told you they were leaving, and you have the urge to make this night last a little longer. It may be selfish, to want to stay in sight of those eyes, but you let yourself be selfish, "Walk me home?"

The way his eyes sparkle tells you you made the right choice.

You really do mean for him just to walk you home. So you're not exactly sure how you ended up making out with your ex-boyfriend in a dirty alley way.

It makes your head spin, how his hands dig into your waist to tug you closer. How he chases your mouth every time you pull back to suck in a breath.

It's desperate, needy, and you want to keep your fingers curled into the cool leather of his jacket forever. Jason crowds your space, backing you towards the wall, he trails kisses down your jaw, occasionally nipping at your skin to leave pretty, bruised marks.

"Wait–" You start, digging your heels into the ground.

He pauses, and pulls back, "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't meant to–"

"No!" You practically shout, not wanting him to misunderstand, "it's just– the wall is dirty," You finish weakly.

He blinks, then grins at you, "Is that all you're worried about, doll? Just the wall?"

You nod, sheepish as you fidget with the zipper of his jacket.

He hums thoughtfully and kisses the crown of your head, "I got something for ya," he murmurs, tugging off his leather jacket.

Before you can ask what he's doing, he drapes the coat over your shoulders, and guides your arms through the sleeves, "There, better?"

"Better," You echo, much more willing to let him push you against the wall, to let him suck your pulse and press his hands under your clothes. The leather is soft, smells like him, and the bricks behind you don't even register as he presses against you.

You're both eager, both grasping at fabric and skin. Your eyes light up, when as you're licking a stripe up his neck, Jason tilts his head back and moans.

It's a noise you want to hear again, and when you take his ear between your teeth, you're rewarded with another sweet sound.

Neither of you waste any time to push aside the clothes you're wearing. Half-dressed and panting, you fumble with his belt in the empty alley. He doesn't hesitate to hike your leg over his hip, pressing sloppy kisses along your jaw.

"You're sure about this," Jason asks, lips hovering over the juncture where your shoulder meets your neck.

"Yeah," You breathe out, tangling a hand in his hair to steady yourself, "Are you?"

"Never been more sure of anything," he says firmly, and bites down on your skin as if to seal his words as fact.

He's hungry, as he captures your mouth with another passionate kiss, and you're just as desperate and wanting. Desire pools in your gut as you grind your hips into his, voice pitching into a whine, "Please?"

The neediness in your eyes when you look up at him nearly makes his knees buckle, "Fuck, yes, doll. Whatever you want."

He's not one to make you ask again, and shamelessly presses a finger to your cunt. "Look at you," he breathes out, slowly pumping one finger in and out, gathering your wetness, "You're dripping."

You don't bother choking back the whine that escapes your lungs, only grab his hair tighter when he adds a second finger, carefully working you open for him.

His eyes, your breath catches, when his eyes seem to darken, coveting every reaction you have, every expression that flits across your face.

"Feels good, doll'" he coaxes, scissoring his fingers. When all you manage is a hazy nod, he grins and adds a third finger, curling them as he presses deeper, "C'mon, you can use your words."

"Jason, yeah, feels good," You answer, breathless and full of desire. You squirm, bucking your hips into his hand in an attempt to get him to move faster, "but I want you."

He hums thoughtfully, and presses the palm of his hand to your clit, grinding into the sensitive flesh. When your eyes flutter and your body clenches around him, he coos in approval.

"Good," he says fondly, pressing a kiss to your lips before slowly pulling his fingers away. You almost pout at the loss, but the sight of him lewdly licking off the remnants of you in his hand more than makes up for it.

Your jaw may have dropped, and you may have looked a little more dumbfounded than you're willing to admit, but any embarrassment turns to excitement when he lines his cock up to your weeping pussy.

Neither of you looks away as he pushes into you, inch by delicious inch. It turns you into a whimpering, groaning mess as you sigh out his name, eyes half lidded.

“Yeah, pretty,” He prompts, voice a low rumble as he watches you. He can't pick which sight he likes better, the way your eyes flutter, or the way you're greedily taking in everything he has to give.

He can’t help the smug smirk that spreads over his face when you mewl out his name, clearly delighted at the effect he has on you. “There you go, Doll. Let me hear you say my name again," He coos, trailing his free hand over your thigh to find your clit again.

You're eager to chant his name again when he starts to shallowly thrust between your legs. He moans when you clamp down around his dick, and it spurs him to move faster.

Jason groans deeply as he feels your body react, his eyes darkening with desire as he pushes into you again. You both breathe out a sigh of relief and ecstasy when you take him to the base of his cock.

"Good. Doing so good, doll," he mumbles, using all his self-control to hold the pressure against your cervix for a few moments, letting you adjust, before pulling back slightly.

You tug a little at his hair, it's addicting, how full he makes you feel, how desperate you are for more, "You can move, want you to move."

He hums, and seems more interested in moving his mouth along your jaw, biting and sucking his way down your neck to leave marks on your skin. Jason sucks a prominent bruise onto your freshly bitten skin until it’s pretty and bruised and all his.

You groan, and it only encourages him to drag his hand from your folds and pinch your nipple between his fingers.

"Jason," You protest, rolling your hips to try and entice him to finally move.

“Mhm. You like the sound of my name, pretty? You wanna keep saying it while I make you feel good?” He murmurs, his voice low and rough and breathless against your skin.

He starts to roll your nipple between his fingers, pinching and kneading the sensitive peak.

"Jason, move'" You whine, almost desperate. His eyes lock on your eyes, and you're completely lost to him.

His thumb gives your nipple one last swipe before he settles his hand between your thighs again, eyes raking over your face like he wants to memorize the expression of pleasure that’s taking over at the moment, "There you go, it sounds so perfect when you say my name like that."

His other hand squeezes your thigh affectionately, and before you can protest again, he pulls halfway out, savoring how you twitch around him. You cry out in pure pleasure when he thrusts back into your heat.

He swallows your cries with a kiss, and starts to pick up his pace, steady and relentless.

You can only tip your head back and moan, as you drag your nails along his scalp, panting and trembling under his grip.

“So goddamn good,” Jason mutters, pressing himself as deep as he can go with every movement. He starts to ramble your name, driving his cock against the spot that makes you gasp over and over.

He's relentless, all consuming and you almost miss it when he murmurs against your throat, "Not your ex now, am I?"

You curse, and shudder around him, clawing at his shoulder. It doesn't make his pace falter, if anything it drives him to push a little more, to move a little fast, to test your limits.

You feel his pleased smile form against your skin when you start to chant his name, breathless and needy and so, so close to the edge.

"There ya go, come for me, doll," he encourages, and when you do, when you soak his cock and sob his name, he fucks you through your climax.

He ruts into your fluttering hole until his own hips stutter, his fingers dig into your skin hard enough to leave bruises, and he cums inside of you. He rides out both of your releases, fucking his spend back into you even as it starts to leak and drip down your thighs.

Jason presses his forehead to yours, going still against you, his eyes dart over your face as you both pant, sticky, sweaty, and messy. He grins at you when you blink at him with glassy eyes, "You look good like this. I could see it every day, and it still wouldn't be enough."

You're not exactly sure where he finds the energy to praise you, but it makes you tuck your face against his shoulder as you catch your breath.

He presses a kiss to the side of your head, "Gonna take you home and run you a bath. Then, we're gonna cuddle till you fall asleep and I'll make you breakfast in the morning. Sound good?"

You whine softly when he pulls out of you, already mourning the feeling of him inside you, but you manage to nod.

True to his word, Jason carries you home and draws you a bath. You fall asleep with him curled around you, and when you wake up, the sound of him cooking breakfast makes its way to the bedroom.

And if you entice him to bend you over the counter before you eat, letting the food go cold, or suggest you show him just how well you fit in his lap, that's none one's business but yours.

It shouldn't surprise you, if you do encourage him to find out what you taste like on his tongue, that Jason never really leaves. Sooner rather than later, he'll make sure any use of the word 'ex' disappears from your lips.

[hairmetal666]

The worst thing that ever happened to Eddie Munson is a spinning studio opening in the building next to the neighborhood store he runs with his uncle.

"That's the third one today," Eddie whines as soon as the door snicks shut behind a woman with a glossy high ponytail and electric pink polka dot Lululemon sports bra and bicycle short set.

"You see her ponytail?" Nancy asks. She's flipping through a stack of flashcards. "Never seen a twenty-five year old look fresh off a facelift."

"I hate them so much. What kind of job is 'cycling instructor' anyway?"

"I'm concerned about the amount of makeup they wear to workout. That's gotta be bad for the pores."

"I'm concerned about the collective IQ holding that operation together. Like, do they know how to get out if there's a fire alarm?"

Nancy shoves him, but snickers too. It's not like he really has anything against the instructors. They're fine. Polite and usually harmless. It's the principle of it. It's not fair, that they get to continue into an adulthood that's still all about them being pretty and popular, without any substance.

"You've done college bio," he says. He notices a couple of cereal boxes have fallen over, hops off the counter to push them back in place. "What are the chances their muscles are so big it's cutting off the blood flow to their brains? Is that a thing that can happen?"

There's no response from the front of the store, which isn't unusual. Mostly, she lets him talk and chimes in when the mood strikes. Since she seems uninterested in offering her input, he straightens the cereal and keeps gabbing.

"The other day, one of the guys came in, and his shorts were so tight, I could see his balls. Not just the outline, but the wrinkles. I could almost make out individual pubes. Is that one of those things where they pretend they're limiting drag, or whatever, to improve their speed? Even though it's a stationary bike--"

He turns, the shelves straightened, and literally only three feet from him is one of the aforementioned cycling instructors. Unfortunately, he's the most beautiful man Eddie has ever seen. Even more unfortunately, he definitely heard Eddie making fun of them.

"Uhh," Eddie says.

The guy smiles. "Sorry, my giant muscles make it hard to get around sometimes."

And Eddie just. Like. What the fuck. "That must make it difficult to cycle." God, god but this guy is so fucking, devastatingly hot and all Eddie has done is antagonize him. And not even intentionally!

"I get by," he smiles and Eddie almost swoons. "Hey, when I bend down, can you let me know about the ball sitch? I have a wholesome image to maintain."

Is he flirting? It seems like he's flirting? But that's weird, right? He caught Eddie talking shit, why would he--

"It would be my pleasure to look at your balls," his mouth says before his brain can catch up.

The guy snorts, smile getting bigger. "I don't know, now I might be self-conscious. Might have a wayward pube."

"How will you know if someone doesn't take a look?"

The guy steps closer, cocks his head to the side. He's got this impressive sweep of hair that barely tumbles, his throat dotted with cute little moles and freckles. Eddie's mouth is watering, why is his mouth watering? "I usually get to know someone a little bit better before they get that privilege."

For once, he's speechless and now he's blushing, can feel it up to his ears and down to his nipples.

The guy leans even closer, breath ghosting against Eddie's skin. "Too bad you hate exercise instructors."

This social interaction has already been a disaster, but he makes it even worse by responding with an indignant squeak.

The guy winks, can't hide his genuine amusement at Eddie's expense. "You ever want to make it up to me, you can come to one of my classes."

With that, he walks up to Nancy at the counter, and Eddie gets his first look at the single most glorious ass he's ever seen. His mouth literally drops open as he watches how it jiggles, perfect and round, and he wonders if it would be too much to fall to his knees and worship it right then and there.

Eddie's dumbstruck for a little too long, almost misses as the cycling instructor heads for the door. "How can I take your class if I don't know your name?" He shouts.

The instructor half turns, the sexiest, smuggest smile on his pretty face. "It's Steve!" He yells back.

"I'm Eddie!"

"I know!"

The door closes and he turns to Nancy. "How--how did he know my name?"

Nancy rolls her eyes, goes back to her flashcards. "You're wearing a name tag, you absolute dork."

Eddie knows he's a man of weak will. Is not completely surprised when, after a month of meanly flirtatious interactions, Steve leans across the counter to taunt, "you do one cycling class with me and I'll take you out to dinner."

He's fresh from a workout, hair still damp and messy from the shower. Eddie thinks he's about to lose his mind, desire a clawing beast gnawing on his bones.

"Oh, so I might finally get the opportunity to check out your balls?"

Steve's cheeks go very pink, and something tight and hot tugs in Eddie's abdomen. "If you play your cards right."

[foldingfittedsheets]

Back in the dawn of days I worked at Red Robin. It was my first real job after a brief stint at a dog kennel. Many people don’t know this but there’s a costume. A Red Robin mascot costume. I’d never seen it before I worked there.

He’s a violently red bird with empty eyes, a vacant grin, the most atrocious yellow leggings you’ve ever seen, and feet to make any Kingdom heart character swoon. His name was Red.

I was a host, and we were the only ones called upon to wear the costume. We’d don the bright yellow tights and corporate fursuit with someone leading us by the hand so we didn’t crash into everything.

The mesh screen in Red’s gaping mouth was supposed to let the wearer look out. Visibility was a joke. The restaurant was a dark gray haze of bustle from inside Red’s head. So every Tuesday and Thursday there’d be a two hour shift of a designated Bird Buddy leading the visually impaired sacrifice around.

After being forced to wear it during a heat wave and vomiting from the overwhelming temperature, I had vowed to never wear it again. But every new host always had a tiny secret longing to wear it when they first started. This desire never survived the full two hour shift.

So I was working a day shift with a newer host, Lauren, who had been openly enthusiastic to wear it. The manager hustled up to tell us that a little kid was here for his birthday and desperately wanted to see Red. We weren’t scheduled but impromptu requests could be accommodated when the restaurant was slow.

I said, “Great, Lauren can do it and I can be her buddy.”

I grabbed the hapless Lauren and dragged her to the dry goods storage where the suit was stored and where we changed. I closed the door and dragged the suit down. It had a particular greasy ground in smell to it.

Frying food, hot oil, and body odor had all permeated the faux fur with a unique reek. The management mouthed empty nothings that the suit was sent for monthly cleanings. It was common knowledge they were lying through their teeth. The smell of Red was eternal and unchanging.

“Okay, so take off your pants, put on the tights, then step into the body and I’ll zip you up. Then you get a vest and the head goes on last, got it?”

Lauren stared at me. I stared back. She made no move to change.

“Okay…” I repeated, “So you take off your pants and put on the tights?”

Lauren shifted nervously, silent. Not changing.

“Do you need me to turn around…?” It hadn’t occurred to me that she might be shy based on her personality, all the hosts were fairly blasé about changing in front of each other.

“I didn’t….” Her voice dwindled to a decimal only perceivable by bats.

“What’s that?”

Blushing vibrantly she raised her voice to the level of a tiny mouse to squeak, “I’m not wearing underwear….”

I stared at her harder. Our uniform pants were dark denim jeans. The thought of rubbing my bare pussy into denim for a whole shift was on par with dry humping a sheet of sandpaper. “You’re… you’re not wearing… anything?”

She shook her head miserably.

We both regarded the yellow tights worn by most of the host staff. We contemplated a lack of underwear being pressed into those communal tights, adding to the miasma of Red’s smells.

But I was sure as fuck not getting in that costume.

“Make sure to take the tights home and wash them.”

Her eyebrows went up. She met the bitter steel in my eyes and crumpled. I turned my back and she did what she had to, slipping naked as a babe into the neon spandex of Red’s tights. Lauren trustingly kept a grip on my hand as I navigated her through trays and tables to terrify the tiny birthday boy.

To the best of my knowledge, she never did wash the tights.

[whumptober]

Whumptober 2023

Welcome to Whumptober 2023 — the sixth year running!

COMPLETIONISTS/PARTICIPANT BADGES CAN BE FOUND HERE

To those of you who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone joining this year, welcome!

Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

And this years playlist can be found here.

There are 139 prompt options in total this year - this is including the alternatives list! A special thanks goes out to those who took part in our trope vote back in July. From the 1526 responses to our list of 223 tropes, we looked through the popularity results, as well as your honourable mentions, and were able to produce this years prompts list. Stay tuned, as we will be posting some of the results at a later date!

We’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!

Best of luck and happy whumping,

Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro

(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information and FAQs are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2023 Prompt List

No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”

Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”

No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”

Thermometer | Delirium | “They don't care about you.”

No. 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”

Journal | Solitary Confinement | “Make it stop.”

No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”

Cattle Prod | Shock | “You in there?”

No. 5: “You better pray I don't get up this time around.”

Debris | Pinned Down | “It's broken.”

No. 6: “Do or die, you’ll never make me; Because the world will never take my heart.”

Recording | Made to Watch | “It should have been me.”

No. 7: " “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”

Alleyway | Radio Silence | “Can you hear me?”

No. 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.”

Overcrowded ER | Outnumbered | “It’s all for nothing.”

No. 9: “Learning everything ain't what it seems, that's the thing about these days.”

Polaroid | Mistaken Identity | “You're a liar.”

No. 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

Broken Phone | Stranded | “You said you'd never leave.”

No. 11: “All the lights going dark and my hope’s destroyed.”

Animal trap | Captivity | “No one will find you.”

No. 12: “I haven't slept in days but who's counting?”

Red | Insomnia | “I’m up, I’m up.”

No. 13: “It comes and goes like the strength in your bones.”

Cold Compress | Infection | “I don’t feel so good.”

No. 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.”

Flare | Water Inhalation | “Just hold on.”

No. 15: “I don't need you to help me I can handle things myself.”

Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”

No. 16: “Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

Gurney | Flatline | “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

No. 17: “You’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest.”

Collar | Touch Aversion | “Leave me alone.”

No. 18: “I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened.”

Blindfold | Tortured For Information | “Hit them harder.”

No. 19: “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.”

Floral Bouquet | Psychological | “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”

No. 20: “People don’t change people, time does.”

Blanket | Found Family | “You will regret touching them.”

No. 21: “See the chains around my feet.”

Vows | Restraints | “Don't move.”

No. 22: “They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.”

Glass Shard | Vehicular Accident | “Watch out!”

No. 23: “It’s gonna get me by the end of the night.”

Shadows | Stalking | “Who’s there?”

No. 24: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.”

Goodbye Note | Neglect | “I thought they were with you.”

No. 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.”

Storm | Buried Alive | “They’re not breathing!”

No. 26: “Sometimes I get so tired; I don’t even know myself.”

Seeing Double | Working To Exhaustion | “You look awful.”

No. 27: “You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.”

Matches | Scars | “Let me see”

No. 28: “We might not make it to the morning; so go on and tell me now.”

Bloody Knife | Sacrifice | “You'll have to go through me.”

No. 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.”

Scented Candle | Troubled Past Resurfacing | “What happened to me?”

No. 30: “It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay’.”

Borrowed Clothing | Bridal Carry | “Not much longer...”

No. 31: “I thought that I was getting better.”

Emptiness | Setbacks | “Take it easy.”

Alternatives List:

Betrayal

Aftermath of Failure

Brass Knuckles

Decoy

Body Modification

Playing Cards

Examination

Hunting

Drugging

Shaking

Panic

Broken

Miscommunication

Lab Rat

Reluctant Whumper

Event Info & Rules

~ Please read our extensive event info posts before sending us an ask ~

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. The 'theme' of each day is the line of lyrics.

The prompts are merely to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is "flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be related to the 'spark' of a relationship. It's truly up to you!

In total, there are 4 prompts for each day: there's lyrics, an object, a trope and a line of dialogue to choose from.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:

#whumptober2023 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(day number)

#lyric, #bruises, #stabbing,  …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#fandom or #OC, … (ironman, originalcontent, oc …)

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #gore tw, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Add "tw" AFTER the trigger/content warning. )

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed the event. You do not need to post anything you have created, we rely on trust and we will not check this.

Questions not addressed in one of our many event info posts can be directed to this blog. We will not answer any questions that have been answered in the FAQs or rules already.

Frequently Asked Questions

Q. How does this year’s prompt list work? What do I have to choose?

You can create something based on:

The overall theme/lyric of the day

Prompt 1, 2 or 3

One or several of the alternative prompts

A combination of the above

Q. Is [specific anything] allowed?

When in doubt: JUST DO IT!

Q. Do I have to do all 31 days?

Participate as much or little as you like! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.7, #radio silence). If you create works for 31 total theme days you will become a completionist. But apart from that, there are no repercussions if you don’t fill prompts for each day.

Q. Can I post early/late?

Yes, you can post whenever you want. We will only reblog posts during October, but you can use our prompts all year round. The day you post will only affect your probability of being reblogged.

Q. Will you reblog my post?

Due to the sheer number of content posted during Whumptober we can’t promise to reblog every single post. We will make a random selection trying to capture a wide variety of content. The following will increase your chances at being reblogged:

tag your post properly

post within 2-3 days of the theme you want to fill: if you fill the prompt for Day 1 your chances of being reblogged during October 1st to 3rd are highest and will go towards zero afterwards.

Q. What if I don’t understand a prompt/theme?

Send us an ask! We’re happy to help with wild, unhelpful clarifications or brainstorming. That being said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation. Don’t take them too literally. For example: You can be choking on a cherry, someone else can choke you or you could be choked up on emotions, etc.

Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?

This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gifset or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe.

Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?

Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

Q. Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms?

Of course! You can post your own content wherever you like (or you can opt to not publish it at all). Additionally we’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. It can be accessed here. The tumblr blog @whumptober-archive is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle.

Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?

Yes.

Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?

If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the Whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If you’ve previously posted something that checks the boxes, we ask that you not include it retroactively for this current year. You can, however, add new chapters relating to one or more of the prompts.

Q. What kind of characters can I write for?

Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, RPF, whoever you like. You can use the generic “whumpee” character or have specific ones.

Q. Does it have to take place in a specific fandom?

No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want.

Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?

Yes, but it only counts once towards being a completionist.

Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day’s prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?

No, you can’t exchange prompts for different days. However, if all four prompts of a specific day make you uncomfortable, we have created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from. You can exchange any prompt with these, but please make sure not to use them twice.

Q. Where can I post my work?

Post where and how you want. You don’t have to (cross)post it to Tumblr or at all. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.

Q. Can I start posting early?

You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.

Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s?

Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.  

Q. Is co-writing allowed?

Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you.

Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?

One continuous story is fine.  The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)

Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?

There is no limit.

Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?

No limit and combine as many as you’d like.

Q. Is a hc/angst/emotional whump focus ok?

Of course! We are not going to establish a threshold for whumpiness. If you think it’s whumpy enough, then it’s whumpy enough. It can be physical, psychological, emotional, or any combination of the three.

Q. What’s considered nsfw?

See this post

Q. What is whump?

Typically the genre includes situations where a fictional character is hurt, be it emotionally, psychologically, or physically. Fanlore provides information here.

Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn’t whumpy at all, does that count?

If you don’t think your interpretation is whumpy, then it doesn’t count for Whumptober. Remember that whump comes in many forms, though, and that we don’t have a whump-checker or a threshold for how much whump needs to be included. If you think your interpretation contains enough whump to count, then it does.

Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?

Absolutely! That’s why we post the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time” so feel free to start creating early!

Q. How do I tag triggers?

tw at the end of the word, ex. #gore tw

Q. Do I have to use your tags?

Yes, if you want your work archived on the blog. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want. 

Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?

Yes

Q. Can we @ you?

Yes but we mostly rely on the #whumptober2023 tag.

Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?

There are no rules, but please make sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies for whatever site you use).

Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?

Here on Discord or come into our ask box.

Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?

Yes, but as with everything else, use clear and descriptive tags.

Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?

Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.

Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).

Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!

[corrodedbisexual]

Steve's sprawled across the couch watching a movie and doesn't react at first to the movement on the opposite side of it; he's so used to Eddie fidgeting all the time, even in his sleep, that he barely notices anymore. But then, there's the unmistakable weight and warmth of his boyfriend crawling across his body, and Eddie's face in his peripheral vision finally makes Steve turn and look.

Okay, well, that's a new one. But it's Eddie Munson, so pretty much every day there's something new.

Steve raises an eyebrow at the boy's face looming above him, grinning around a gummy worm dangling from his teeth.

"What?"

Eddie mumbles something unintelligible around the candy; the only part Steve can make out is the final 'oh fuck' as sugary spit starts running down Eddie's chin, and he has to rip the gummy out of his teeth and wipe his mouth with a sleeve.

Steve chuckles and shakes his head fondly. He's way too far gone, because it's just endearing when it should, probably, be off-putting.

"I brought you a worm," Eddie finally says clearly, his mouth free. "Get it?"

Steve just continues to stare at him, both eyebrows raised now. Eddie rolls his eyes.

"I'm courting you? Like, bird-style? You're supposed to accept my worm if you like me."

Steve bursts out laughing; he can't help it.

"Courting me? Eds, we've been dating for six months."

Eddie sighs, his smile turning sheepish as he starts moving away.

"Uh... You know what, never mind, t'was stupid—"

"Nonono, babe, get back here," Steve interrupts him, still chuckling, and grabs the front of Eddie's shirt to tug him back in. "Come on, I'll gladly accept your worm."

With a nearly blinding grin, Eddie shoves the gummy back between his teeth and leans in. Steve leans forward a bit and gingerly takes it with his teeth, their lips brushing briefly. As Steve chews through the sour-sweet gummy, his boyfriend giggles above him, eyes sparkling.

"You liiike me, then."

"I love you, you dork," Steve points out to him, unable to stop grinning now.

"Well, yeah, but now I also know you'd like me if we were birds."

"Oh yeah. I bet your mating dance would win me over right away, too."

Steve was absolutely prepared for Eddie to take the bait, and yet he's still in stitches from laughing as his boyfriend pushes himself to his feet and starts dancing around the couch, flapping his arms and making loud chirping noises.

Bird Steve would certainly be swooning. Human Steve just keeps falling harder every day.

[aakeysmash]

christmas shopping, matching pajamas and family discounts

college!sukuna masterlist

"Why are we here again?" college!sukuna huffs from next to you for the umpteenth time.

"Stop acting like a little bitch. You asked me that 20 seconds ago, Yuuji is acting better than you," you hiss out, glaring at him. It's true though: the kid is trotting right in front of you two, not a care in the world, while his caretaker is currently dragging his feet on the pavement you're walking on.

"And you still didn't answer, fucker," he barks back, grimacing, kicking a little rock.

"Yes, I fucking did! I told you this morning we were going Christmas shopping! You never listen to me," you start, jutting your lip out and trying to play the victim. You know he hates it when you do it. "Maybe I should tell Yuuji how his big brother hates the idea of going shopping with him," you provoke, whispering so that only you and him know what you're talking about. He scoffs, offended.

"Liar. Don't you fucking dare-"

"Are you two fighting again?" whines Yuuji, turning around and pouting. You and Sukuna glance at each other before shaking your head at the same moment.

"No, we're getting along so well," you force yourself to smile.

"Yeah, she said she's so glad I'm accompanying her. Matter of fact, she said she's going to offer us lunch," Sukuna continues, an evil glint in his eyes when he hears you gasp.

"I did not-"

"Really?! Yippie!" screams Yuuji, coming to hug you violently. You stumble back, gritting your teeth, and reciprocate the hug while narrowing your eyes at the grinning tattooed man in front of you. He knows you're not able to say no to his brother.

When Yuuji runs inside the mall, you push Sukuna's shoulder, mumbling "bitch". He just chuckles, then boldly gets you close by placing one open hand on your lower back. You know he's just going to tease you, so you put both hands on his chest to fight back, trying to put some distance between you two, but the place is crowded and everyone is looking at you. A woman passes by you and looks at you weirdly, so you stop wriggling in his grasp, and he delicately pushes you even closer. You're chest to chest, his breath fanning over your features, grin ever present on his face, enjoying how you look pissed out of your mind. From the outside, it looks like you're hugging each other, when in reality he just puts his mouth on your ear to utter "Never play with me, baby. I know how to drive you mad," then frees you and walks behind Yuuji with his hands in his pockets, not turning back to see if you're following him or not. You're seething.

"Oh my God, Yuuji, look at these!" you swoon over a pair of pajama pants. They're a soft brown, decorated with little green Christmas' trees and little reindeers, a bright red Merry Christmas! on both knees.

"It's a set!" squeals the kid next to you, grabbing the sweater right on top of the piece of cloth you have in your hands. You both notice at the same time that the set comes both in adults' and kids' sizes. "Can we take it?" he asks you looking up, puppy eyes activated. Your heartstrings are pulled so tight you feel like you could implode if you look at his face for a second longer.

"Of course we can, I thought it was obvious," you say excitedly, grabbing his hands and jumping up and down with him in a circle while he laughs, smile on full display and brown eyes squeezed shut happily.

Sukuna, who has kept watching his phone for the majority of the time you've been inside the mall, raises his gaze when he hears your laugh mingled with his brother's. If you had been looking at him in that instant, you would've seen the brief soft glimpse that passed on his whole face when he took in how happy you both looked together. When you turn around, though, he's already schooled his features to appear bored.

"Are we done?" he yawns.

"Would you like to match with us?" you ask him, at the same time. You scowl and he scoffs.

"Hell no, girl. I'm not with whatever stupid shit y'all are doing," he says, trying to act tougher than what he actually feels like. Seeing you being kind to the only person in the world who shares 100% of his genes makes him feel things he doesn't want to acknowledge right now.

"You're a party pooper, 'Kuna," Yuuji mumbles, frowning. "Can we still match? I really want us to match," he adds, shily, looking at you. You're shocked. His cheeks are getting redder the more you gawk at him. "Sorry, you can say no-"

Your kiss on his cheek resonates all around the ally you're currently staying in. "Of course I want to match with you. We don't need your evil brother, Yuuji. Let's go try them on," you sweetly say, taking his hand and walking away from Sukuna, not before flipping him off. Yuuji is so giddy that he follows you like he's walking on clouds, his face slightly hurting from how hard he's cheesing.

Sukuna just stands there, baffled and even a little offended. He stiffens, noticing he still has his phone in his hands. He's so fast with it he's the first to remain shocked by his own actions: he hears the click of his camera and looks at the pic he's just taken, feeling his chest heavier than it's ever been. It's a beautifully taken pic, where you and Yuuji are squinting at each other, hand in hand, laughing. He turns off his screen, shakes his head and catches up to you. You're going to give him a headache if you continue being like this. Or a heart attack. Or both.

"Hello, what can I do for you?" the nice old lady at the checkout says.

"Hi, we'd like to take these two pieces," you kindly respond, handing her the pajamas you and Yuuji just tried on.

"Let me see... oh, we actually have a family discount on this! Is the daddy not going to take anything?" she innocently asks, looking over at your older roommate.

"Yo, I'm not his-"

Your eyes almost fall out of your sockets. "Ah ah ah! Silly us! We forgot his one! Just give me a second," you interrupt a scowling Sukuna, covering his mouth with your hand before he can finish his sentence, dragging him away. Yuuji gives the old lady a confused look, to which she responds with "Young parents these days," shaking her head.

"You're going to take the fucking matching set, Sukuna, and you're going to like it," you seethe, still dragging him away (well, it's more like he's letting you drag him away). You hear how he's trying to talk behind your hand. "Don't piss me off. I'm going to pay less to get more, and you're going to listen to me. Go." You ignore him and he raises one eyebrow, looking you up and down, before biting your fingers. You yelp and let him go, scowling. "I said go! And act like you care about me when we get there, we're a family until the discount tells us so!"

"Okay, ma'am," he grins down to you, wiping his saliva from the corner of his mouth with a slow movement, his gaze lingering a bit too much on the way you're panting.

"Move! Take your size and let's go! Yuuji is waiting for us!" you push him, rushing back to the cashier.

"Oh, you were really fast. I thought you were going to argue with the way you rushed away," she says when she sees you come back, surprised. You nervously chuckle, telling her how you were already planning on buying one for Sukuna, you just forgot. "That would be 20.99$."

While you're swiping your card, you suddenly feel engulfed by heat. Sukuna positions his hands on your waist, giving you a half hug from behind while simultaneously giving his best confident grin to the old lady in front of him.

"Yeah. I just like when she bosses me around a bit, if you know what I mean," he says, sultry, winking at the cashier who is chuckling behind her hand, embarrassed, waving him away.

What the fuck? You initially try not to stiffen, then relax and give her a shy smile, and he squeezes you a bit closer. You melt on his chest, feeling hotter than you've felt all day. He's so comfortable. He brushes his lips near your ear and makes sure you hear the way his raspy voice is all around you. "And I do, baby. I really do."

[rustyr3dhe4d]

unexpected (2) - cl16

summary: a few years ago, you found yourself unexpectedly pregnant with your boyfriends baby. upon telling him, he completely disappeared and you hadn't heard from his since. of course you told your best friend, charles. he vowed to help you before and after the birth. fast forward a couple of years, what happens when your child assumes charles is her father.

!part 1 here!

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

you sat in charles' driver room, waiting for him to come back from media duties. he'd made it on podium, taking third place and you couldn't be happier. you stroked your daughter's hair as she slept peacefully next to where you were sitting.

soon, charles appears through the door. "hey, you did so good today." you told him as you brought him into a tight hug. "thank you, amour." his arms wrapped around your waist, head tucked tightly between your head and shoulder.

you rubbed his back comfortingly, knowing how tired he was. once he pulled away, he took in adelines sleeping figure. he squats down and places a light kiss on her head.

in the silence you both sat down on the small table in his room. you know the elephant in the room was going to be talked about sooner or later.

"do you want to talk about, you know... what adeline called you earlier?" your fingers began fidgeting nervously as you brought up the topic. he looked down at his feet. "it's okay, i know she's young and she doesn't know about everything."

"i'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable." you place your hand on his, which he takes it and intertwines your fingers.

ever since you found out you were pregnant up to the birth of your daughter, charles was next to your side every single step. he was there with you at every appointment, every breakdown, and every kick she gave you. he was even there holding your hand as you brought adeline into the world.

even though she's not biologically his, he's been a father figure to her. "no, it didn't make me uncomfortable." he looks to her. "in a way, it made me feel good."

you turn to him with furrowed brows. "she doesn't understand the full extent of what happened with her real dad yet, but i'm glad she sees me in that way."

you can't help but feel your heart swoon. there was always a little thought in the back of your mind that you wished charles was adelines father. but you brushed it off every time it came to light. "i understand," you swallow. "part of me wishes sometimes... that you were actually adelines father."

his words cause him to look at you quickly. "really?"

"it's just, when i told my ex i was pregnant and he left, i never felt so alone. but you stepped up and have been more of a father to her than he could've ever been." you can't help but get choked up on your words.

he lets go of your hand and pulls you close, placing a kiss on your head. "i will always be there for you two. no matter what." he whispers to you.

you pull back and look at him, tears still in your eyes. his hands cup your face as he places a sweet kiss to your lips. you weren't expecting it but it feels right. "she's obsessed with you, you know?" you chuckle through your tears.

he can't help but laugh slightly with you. "had a feeling." he moves his hands from your face to hold your hands in your lap. "if it's okay, i would be more than honored to take the role of addy's father. i want to be there, for her and you."

you read his eyes and they hold pure truth behind them. you can't help but smile big and nod. "that's more than okay." you tell him as you place another kiss on his lips.

you hear shuffling coming from your daughter as she wakes up. "hi, my love." you tell her as she climbs into your lap. you can tell she's still sleepy and ready to go. "are you ready to go, papillon?" charles asks her sweetly.

she rubs her eyes tiredly and nods. as soon as he stands, she's reaching for him. you smile and roll your eyes as he scoops her up and carries her. you collect both your stuff and charles stuff and head out of the paddock.

you get to the car and charles goes in the back, to strap her to her car seat. "alright get some more sleep, i love you papillon." he tells her, placing a kiss on her forehead like he did earlier.

"love you daddy..." she mumbles before nodding off to sleep again. you smile at charles, who's dimples are now on display from the smile he gives you.

"looks like she's already used to you." he grabs your hand and opens your door, helping you get in. "let's go home shall we?" he suggests.

you simply nod, as he closes your door once you're settled in the passenger seat. he gets in the driver's seat, starts the car and drives off.

you sigh in content, looking back at your daughter asleep in her car seat and the man you now have the utmost love and adoration for.

you're new little family.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

[cosyvelvetorchid]

Emergency Contact

Based on an idea by @annurb

*********

Buck patted his turnouts and furrowed his brows as he looked around the rig. He bend forward and brushed an arm under the seats.

“Do I even want to ask what you’re doing?” Hen said.

“Uh.. I can’t find my phone.” He said checking his pockets for the third time.

“When did you last have it?” She asked.

“The hospital.” He answered remembering putting it down on the reception desk while he was deep in conversation with one of porters who had asked him about applying to join the department. “I think I left it at reception.”

“You really want us to turn the engine around for your phone?” Bobby asked incredulously from the front.

“Please?”

“Fine.” Bobby sighed. “But if we get a call on the way back we’re going to it and you’ll have to wait until after shift to get it.”

“Copy that, Cap.”

“It not healthy to be this attached to your phone.” Chim told him.

“I’m not!” He protested.

“Oh it’s not his phone he’s attached too.” Hen teased and Buck rolled his eyes and looked out of the window in a failed attempt to hide the flush to his cheeks.

She was absolutely right, though—it wasn’t his phone he’s was obsessed with but that it was it means of communication with Tommy when the universe dared to keep them apart by working opposite shifts.

It’s had been a world-wind 2 months and Bucks feet were barely ever on the ground Tommy had swept him off them so incredibly. For the first time in any relationship he’d been in he’d never once felt the need to ask or beg for attention—Tommy lavished him with it. If he couldn’t physically be there to cook dinner for him, or with him, or watch movies together or go hiking together, or just simply effortlessly be in each others presence, he was messaging or calling in his spare time during his shifts. And not for any real reason but to talk to his boyfriend.

Buck was already falling hard for the pilot.

“Make it quick, Buck.” Bobby said as the rig pulled up in front of the hospital.

Buck jumped down and jogged into the building.

“Firefighter Buckley, you miss us already?” Nurse Jasper said as he approached the desk.

He smiled. “Uh, I think I left my phone here?”

“Ah. It was yours! I put it in the staff room. Can you wait for just a sec? We got 3 nurses out with the flu so we’re run off our feet.”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Thank you. Cindy?” She called to another nurse. “The lady in 204 needs her meds, and the gentleman in 207 needs his dressings changed. And I’d see to him first—he’s a grumpy one.”

“Is that the hot one?” Cindy swooned.

The other nurse rolled her eyes. “Cindy, this is a hospital and he is a patient.”

“A hot patient.” Cindy said back and Buck laughed.

“Just go and see to Mr Kinard before he gets even worse.”

Bucks heart shot up into his throat at the same time his stomach dropped a thousand feet.

“I-I’m sorry, did you just say Mr Kinard?”

“Yes.”

“Thomas Kinard?” He added just to be sure.

“Yeah. Do you..” Buck didn’t hear the rest of her words as he quickly left the desk for the corridor to find room 207.

A mixture of sadness, anger and relief hit him all at once when arrived at the room and saw Tommy through the window.

The man he- his boyfriend was laid on the bed—his left leg in a cast up to below his knee, a bandage wrapped around his right forearm and a stitches on the right side of his forehead surrounded by deep pinkish red bruising.

“What the hell, Tommy?!”

Tommy’s head shot up, his face a mixture of shock and sheepishness. “Shit.” He mumbled under his breath.

He’d hoped to be out of the hospital before he told Buck what had happened—ask for forgiveness not permission, right? He didn’t want to lie to him, and felt bad for doing so, but in the small amount of time they’d been dating he’d come to know that Buck would throw down his whole life to take care of the people he cared about.

It wasn’t that Tommy didn’t appreciate the sentiment, but he was fully capable of taking care of himself and was absolutely not going to be a burden on his boyfriend.

“What the hell happened?! Why are you here? Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me?!” The words all melded into one almost indecipherable sentence.

“I’m fine, Evan.” He protested as he squirmed in his bed trying to give off the air of someone who was absolutely totally fine and not at all beginning to regret refusing pain meds from the nurses.

“You’ve got to be kidding me? You’re in hospital Tommy. With obviously a broken leg and other injuries.” He gestured to Tommy’s arm and face. Buck was immediately reminded of his own near career-ending leg injury and fear fizzed its way around his body as he looked at Tommys leg.

Buck was angry as hell that Tommy, or anybody, hadn’t told him that he’d gotten injured, but overshadowing all of that was sadness and worry that Tommy was hurt.

Tommy hated the worried look on Bucks face. “It’s a basic leg break, a few weeks in a cast and some PT and I’ll be back to normal. Really, it’s nothing to worry about.” He argued.

Though that did alleviate Bucks worries a small amount, he still had to breathe away that anger that was trying its damndest to rise up. “Tommy, being fine is not the issue here—you were hurt and you didn’t tell me.”

“There was no point—there’s nothing that you could do. There was no point worrying you.”

“You’re my boyfriend—I’m going to worry regardless.” He told him. “And it’s not about being able to do anything, it’s about wanting to know that you’re okay and being there for you.”

“Yeah, but then you’d insist on taking care of me, which I don’t need you to do.” His voice had an edge of strain to it. He was getting frustrated. This was the reason he hadn’t told Buck—he didn’t need anybody worrying about him.

“I know you’re capable of looking after yourself, Tommy, that’s not- wait.. how long have you been in here?”

Tommy looked away from Buck before he answered. “Two days.” He answered quietly.

“Two days?! So, the whole time you were texting me telling me you were at home resting on your 48 off you were lying to me?!”

“Evan..” Tommy reached out for Bucks hand but he stepped back. Tommy felt a pull on his heart at the rejection. It was the first time since they’d become a couple that Buck had rejected any physical touch from Tommy.

It was one of Tommy’s favourite things about Buck—how tactile he was. Mostly because he was the same. Physical touch was a big love language of his and having a boyfriend who so readily gave it and received it felt wonderful.

“No. You.. you lied to me, Tommy. I-I don’t know what’s worse. That, or that you didn’t think it was important for me to know that you were injured.”

Tears were threatening his eyes. He felt stupid. He thought things with Tommy were different—that he’d found someone who wanted him around.

“Is everybody in the dark or was it just me?” He asked not being able to hold the contempt out of his voice.

“No, nobody knows. Well, aside from my captain. He’d have noticed when I didn’t turn up for my shift.” He huffed a small laugh which did not go down well with Buck.

“This isn’t funny, Tommy. None of this is. What even happened?”

“Engine hoist chain snapped while I was working on my car. Engine landed on my leg and the chain hit me on the arm and face.”

Bucks heart cracked open at the image in his mind of Tommy trapped in his own garage, alone and in pain.

“And you didn’t think to call me?”

“I was too preoccupied with trying to get an engine off my leg, Evan. Besides, I called 911 straight away.”

Buck was having a hard time with this. His boyfriend hurts himself in a way that could have been much more serious, and spent two days alone in the hospital and nobody was there for him?

“You said nobody else knows?” He asked and Tommy shook his head. “Did they not call your emergency contact?”

“I don’t have one listed.” He said plainly.

“Why? You’re an emergency responder—you know how important it is to have someone to make decisions on your behalf if you can’t.”

“I‘ve never had anybody to put down!” Tommy’s voice was raised which surprised them both. Tommy’s frustration was getting the better of him. The problem was Buck had always looked at Tommy like a hero; a big and brave and confident man who had his shit together. And okay, he may have those tendencies now on the surface, but underneath all of it was a man with a lifetime of trauma he was still unpacking at the age of 40. They were early enough in their relationship that he hadn’t felt comfortable talking about it all yet.

If there was one thing he admired the most about Evan it was that he wore his heart on his sleeve and that had the ability to be open and honest about himself and how he felt. Tommy knew that his boyfriend probably wouldn’t run a mile when, if, he told him about his childhood, but by his own previous experiences in relationships, there was always that chance.

But, he had to give something. The fact was he was falling for Evan and it utterly terrified him. It terrified him that Evan would figure out who he really was and want nothing to do with him. But what was more terrifying was losing him.

He took a deep breath to calm himself. “Evan, it’s been a long time since I’ve had anybody in my life that actually gave a shit about me. And I had come to terms with that—I get by just fine on my own.”

Buck’s heart broke hearing that. His parents hadn’t exactly been there for him growing up but he at least had Maddie taking care of him. Maddie was always there when he needed someone; always his biggest champion.

“Tommy..” Buck pulled up a chair and sat close to the bed, taking Tommy’s hand in his. “I know you’re fully capable of taking care of yourself, but.. I’m here. I’m in your life now and-and I want to be there for you. You don’t have to do this shit alone anymore.”

He concentrated on not allowing the tears to spill over. He knew what would happen—Tommy would immediately focus on him and comforting him, which Buck didn’t want. Tommy was the one who needed comforting.

Even if his stubborn ass couldn’t accept it.

“It’s not easy for me; to let someone be there. I don’t want to be a burden to anybody.” Tommy admitted quietly.

“You’re not a burden, Tommy. You’re my boyfriend—I want to take care of you. And-and not out of obligation or because you’re incapable, but because I-“ He had to stop “L” word from falling out of his mouth. “-care about you. A lot. But you have to let me.”

Tommy looked into Buck always earnest eyes and his mouth moved into a soft smile.

“Okay.” He conceded.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Buck smiled standing up.

“Where are you going?” Tommy asked.

“To tell Bobby that I need the rest of the shift off, and to get the forms you need to fill in to make me your emergency contact.” Tommy opened his mouth but Buck didn’t let him speak. “Look, it doesn’t have to be me if you don’t want that—you can put down Bobby. Or even Hen or Chim—I know none of them would mind. Don’t argue with me on this Tommy—you’re not leaving this hospital without someone on those forms.”

Bucks face was stern, but with an underlying current of affection that Tommy couldn’t say no to.

“I was going to say that I want it to be you.” He told him.

“Okay then.” Buck said with a smile, walking to the door. “Oh, and don’t think I’ve forgiven you for lying to me. You’ve got a lot to work to do to make it up to me, Kinard.” The corner of his mouth pulled up into a small smile telling Tommy that it would be okay.

“Whatever it takes.” He said back.

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - can’t sleep

you just can’t sleep without your husband next to you (i hope my spanish was okay)

Maybe it’s your cycle, maybe its just the fact that you’ve been literally working all day for the past 3 weeks, but you’re tired as shit. The bags under your eyes are almost purple, your entire body hunches over like a zombie when you walk, you barely have time to think nor speak to anyone else besides your husband. The entire building is lowkey worried you’ll snap one day. 

Even Miguel is worried. Much how you like to do to him, Miguel’s been constantly ushering you to rest a little, borderline bribing you with nice takeout or some kisses to get you to sleep. But, to no avail. your sleep schedule is genuinely fucked. 

You’re cranky, hungry, and sleep deprived. 

At the moment, Miguel doesn’t really know where you are. Considering your current state, he thinks you’re out on a mission, or at least somewhere in the office. 

He’s already tried walking through the entire office just looking for you. He checked the cafeteria, gym, hallway, etc. muttering, “Where th’fuck are they?” But, you were nowhere to be found.

So, Miguel tries something different. He pulls up his watch, scrolling down to a button that he really only should be using for emergencies, but to Miguel, this is an emergency on its’ own. 

He presses the button, and suddenly his entire face is broadcasted to every single watch in the building. Dramatically, the emergency siren turns on, and all the spider-people are on their feet. 

“If anyone sees my wife, please report back to me asap. Tell her to come see me, I can’t find her anywhere.“

The whole office can see Miguel rub a hand over his face, visibly both annoyed and tired. Everyone starts looking back and forth, tilting heads and making sure that you didn’t just happen to be around somewhere. Once the camera turns off, though, nearly the entire building starts chuckling. 

It’s crazy how much Miguel’s face utterly lights up when he sees his watch ringing without your contact photo. Literally in a split second, he presses the button, opening up a microphone icon. 

“Miguel?“

Ugh, he just loves the sound of your voice. 

“¿Si querida?“

He hears you groan, possibly the sound of bedsheets shuffling, and it pulls at his heart. You’ve been so miserable lately, he just wants to see you back to your happy self again. 

“Come home, now.“

Just the tone of your voice alone put a worried frown on Miguel’s face. (He never likes to admit how much of an impact your emotions have on him.) An ugly, anxious swarm starts to build at the back of his head, making him impossibly nervous. 

Luckily, Miguel knows what to do. 

“Of course, hun. I’ll be there in 10.“

And he turns the watch off, sighing to himself after. He’s a little bit nervous now, fearing as though he did something to upset you, or that you had something serious to talk about when he came home. 

Every step Miguel takes to your shared home brought him closer and closer on edge, worry and theory swirling through his mind. His brain ping-ponged through every single possible reason why you’d want him to come home, especially in such a cranky matter. Maybe you were just tired? Maybe it was because he accidentally gave you a raisin bagel instead of a everything bagel?

By the time Miguel was at the door, his heart was beating erratically in his chest, hands the slightest bit shaky. Stepping inside, Miguel instantly beelined for your shared bedroom, gently opening the door. 

He sees you shuffle around in the covers, his heart secretly swooning. You’re just so cute when you’re half asleep; needy and cuddlier than usual. Already at the bedroom door, Miguel practically rips his shirt off, kicking off his pants and making his way over to where you lay. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, gingerly swiping strands of hair off your face. 

“What is it, hun?“ He coos.

You toss and turn, barely mustering a frown onto your face. Your eyes are half-lidded, tank top almost falling off your shoulder until Miguel readjusts it for you. 

“Can’t sleep without you.“ You mumble, slowly scooting yourself over and draping your arms towards him. Miguel practically swoons, cooing and leaning into your touch. How could he resist such an offer?

“Awh, baby.“ 

He tangles himself into bed with you, breathing the biggest sigh of relief. It wasn’t what he thought it was. You just wanted snuggles. Miguel takes it upon himself to spoil you extra, ghosting his touch over your back and kissing the darling skin of your temple.

Like the thousands of times he has before, Miguel tangles his legs into yours, kneading his fingers into the skin of your raised leg.  

Within a few minutes or so, Miguel feels you knock out like a light, tiny puffs of air escaping your mouth while you fist the sheets like a baby. He sighs, staring at you for a few moments while you sleep. Affectionately, he rubs his knuckles against your cheek, smooching your forehead. 

Miguel pulls a blanket over the both of you, knowing very well that by the time you’re awake, it’ll be completely on the floor. Readjusting his position, Miguel doses off to sleep, allowing himself to completely let go of all the stresses he holds. 

After all, he can’t sleep without you either. 

© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.

[starwrighter]

1/?? Halloween prompt

I’ve got brain rot for creepy Deadserious content but only when it’s only seen as creepy by outsiders. (I know I’m writing a fic with a similar plot but it’s different I swear! Also my grammar is shit because I’m getting dental work done tomorrow and I’m nervous) Tw for stalker behavior

So Damian has a crush on Danny and immediately goes about acting on these feelings much to onlookers horror. Danny is swooning because someone made the effort to do a background check on him. Danny thinks Damian doing this is really smart because, he could be a serial killer for ancients sake why would you risk that? Others say this is a horrible invasion of privacy.

Damian not realizing he's being creepy (being liminal and being an ex assassin, turned vigilante wasn't doing him any favors) Plus Danny also not realizing it's creepy unless you relay Damian behavior towards him with different names.

Damian's just being a textbook stalker, breaking into his house and shit and Danny's all like "awwww he likes me" because this is just normal ghostly courting rituals! His dormroom isn't his lair so Damian breaking in doesn't feel like he's violating any sort of boundary. To him it's like a friend showing up at the coffee shop you work at to say hi.

Danny's had stalkers before, he's very cautious of his behavior to insure he never stalked anyone. Being stalked back in Amity was a horrific experience for him. From cameras in the locker rooms at school (wes) to cameras in his bathroom and bedroom at home (Vlad)! He couldn't feel safe anywhere! To Danny Damian's not a stalker, he's his protector. Nobody seems to understand when he tries to explain this though they just look at him like he's lost his mind.

Damian’s not subtle at all and Danny’s kicking his feet like a lovesick school girl who found out her crush likes her back. Overall it’s super cute from their points of view Damian’s planning an official confession to ask him on a date while Danny’s trying to figure out if Damian actually likes him or is just being nice. They’re just doing normal couple things but people just jump and attack Damian’s character while painting Danny as some kind of brainwashed victim.

The thing is… Danny’s become very good at appearing normal while Damian refuses to pretend to be a bumbling idiot like the rest of his family. He also refuses to dull down his personality for anything other than secret identity reasons. For these reasons since their relationship had become public, Damian had been painted by the media as a creepy possessive boyfriend who threatened Danny into a relationship. This infuriates Danny, the only one doing any kind of possession is him god damn it!

They want to be around each other all the time and that’s normal behavior for ghost/liminal couples! They live much longer than regular humans do they’re like elves, their perceptions of time are messed up. They still spend time apart they still have hobbies and an independent life, people just get hung up on the amount of time they do spend together. It’s normal behavior for them to know mountains of information about each others interests to the point they almost know more than each other. It’s normal to know each other’s schedules and background check the people they associate with. (The realms are very dangerous with shapeshifters and manipulators like spectra and Desiree who can ruin your afterlife in a matter of minutes) Their relationship is creepy to those who haven’t gone to extremes to survive.

Damian has taken to ignoring the reputation press has given him. He’s dealt with paparazzi and tabloids before it’s just frustrating to deal with. It’s when people start accusing him of hurting his beloved that really pisses him off.

(Bonus if Danny’s the one frothing at the mouth to maul a reporter while they try to paint him as a poor innocent victim)

I’mma end the prompt with this so everyone understands why Damian specifically being targeted by press. The more liminal you are the more creepy/uncanny you appear to other people and the more effort you have to put in to hide it. It’s why the bats are more believed to be Eldritch creatures than actual humans in suits. Surprisingly becoming a Halfa completely changes this effect to do the complete opposite. It’s easier for the human brain to look at a halfa and think “Innocent or normal,” Vlad and Danny were morons when it came to actually hiding their identity’s it was only their statuses as halfa’s that prevented people from comprehending them being anything other than normal.

In short Damian’s too dead to be perceived as normal while Danny’s too alive to be perceived as anything other than normal.

[augustinewrites]

your little flower stall is strategically set up a few feet from one of the trendiest restaurants in this area of tokyo. 

it’s a smart spot, one that men like reo can appreciate when he’s already ten minutes late for his date. he’d quite literally just left work, a last minute meeting having forced him to get ready in the back of his car in his haste to arrive somewhat on time. his shirt is untucked and his pants are wrinkled from being left in the trunk for so long.

he winces when he catches his reflection in a window, running a hand through his unkempt hair in a poor attempt to fix it. he definitely can’t show up empty handed when he’s late and looking like this. 

“good evening,” he greets, a little breathless as he approaches your stall. his eyes scan the bouquets available, looking for any safe picks and frowning when he realizes you’re out of roses. so he shrugs and picks up whatever’s closest. some kind of yellow flower.

“yellow carnations?” you murmur as he digs into his pocket for his wallet, prompting him to glance up at you. “an odd choice.”

“how do you mean?”

“it’s an unusual choice for a date, is all.” 

he raises his brows. “how do you know they’re for a date?”

“oh, come on,” you grin, leaning against the counter. “a handsome guy like you doesn’t have someone to buy flowers for?”

he knows it’s probably just a marketing pitch, but his ego swells nonetheless. “handsome, huh?” 

you simply shrug - tease - and place the carnations back into their bucket to grab a different bouquet. you cut a strip of white ribbon from its spool, winding it around the stems. “go with these instead. if your date knows anything about flowers, these will definitely get you laid.”

reo actually laughs at that, as he strongly doubts the wannabe influencer he’d been set up with knows much about the meanings of flowers, but he’ll take your word for it. he hands you his card, not-so-secretly hoping that you’d caught a glimpse of his name on its surface before you swiped it through your machine.

when you return it to him, he pulls a handful of bills out of his wallet and stuffs them into your tip jar.

“oh,” you start. “that’s too much–” 

he flashes you a smile that’s been called ‘swoon-worthy’ before, waving you off as he tucks his wallet back into his pocket. “don’t worry about it! you’re saving my life here.” 

“your sex life, you mean?” you quip, but your eyes sparkle at his praise as you hand him the bouquet. “well, thank you for your patronage, sir.” 

he quickly dips his head in thanks, a little reluctant as he heads towards the restaurant. 

_____

monday mornings aren’t especially busy for you, as bleary eyed office workers don’t have much need for flowers. 

which is why you’re surprised when the man from last friday starts approaching your stall, holding a cup of what you assume must be coffee. he doesn’t quite look like you remember, from the impeccable cut of his suit to the way his hair is neatly pulled back. he’s even wearing aviators that you’re sure would look ridiculous on anyone else, but for some reason make him look like a movie star. 

he pulls them off with his free hand and hangs them off the pocket of his bag, waving at you like you’re old friends. he looks so earnest and excited that you can’t do much else than blush and raise your hand in response. 

“morning,” he greets once you’re close enough to hear. “this is for you. for last friday. i wasn’t sure what you’d like so i just got their special.” 

he holds out the cup, whose logo you now recognize from the overpriced cafe down the street. you take it, smiling. “i take it your date went well then?”

he tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers, shrugging. “sure.” 

“did you come to buy her more flowers?”

“ah…i don’t think i’ll see her again.” 

you perk up at that. just a little. “oh?” 

“yeah,” he sighs, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “i, uh, kinda wanna see where things go with someone else.” 

oh, of course there’s someone else. a guy like him probably never has a shortage of options. (and who are you not to capitalise on that?) “maybe some flowers will help.” 

you think there’s something mischievous in his smile. “definitely. what do you recommend?”

_____

reo is running out of places to put his flowers. 

they’re all over his office. they line the entirety of his windowsill and take over the free space on his desk. a small clump of white daisies in an old coffee mug. a single rose in his pen cup. his assistant has to crane her head around a vase of lilies to deliver her reports at the end of each day. 

what can he say? you’re one hell of a salesperson. if anyone had asked him what his favourite flower was before, he’d have no idea what to tell them. in truth, he’d never given much thought to something so impermanent as flowers.  

but you easily become a permanent part of his routine. each day he stops at your stall, utilising the information he’d gathered from the internet just moments before to impress you with an educated floral choice. 

you always smile when you hand him the bouquet, and he wonders how your product isn’t sold out at the end of each day, with a smile as enamouring as yours. 

when his office is overrun by floral accents, he starts bringing them home instead. his neighbours gush about what a great boyfriend he is each time they catch him returning with a new arrangement. they say that whoever he’s coming home to must be a ‘very special someone.’

they don’t know that it’s just nagi, who barely looks up from whatever game he’s playing but comments mildly that he didn’t think reo was a flower guy. 

“everyone’s a flower guy,” he’d quipped as he unwrapped the brand new vase he’d bought to accompany the bouquet of peonies and anemones you’d given him. 

and if nagi noticed he’d come home blushing the day you called him your most important customer, he didn’t say anything.

_____

“hey,” he asks on a particularly slow sunday afternoon. you’re in the process of wrapping - by his request - a bundle of lilacs, which happen to be your favourite flower. “come to lunch with me. i can get us a table—” he points to the restaurant behind you. “—there.” 

you don’t answer right away, allowing yourself a moment to make sure you’ve heard him right. “what would your girlfriend think?”

he looks confused as you hold the lilacs out to him. “girlfriend?”

“yeah…isn’t she the one you’ve been buying all these flowers for?”

he blinks a few times before hanging his head with a chuckle. “no i— i don’t have a girlfriend.”

he doesn’t have a girlfriend. so that would mean…

“you’re asking me out,” you realize, averting your gaze to the counter with all the awkwardness of a kid receiving their first valentine. “i’d love to, but i can’t just close—”

“what would you make in a day?” he blurts. “ideally.” 

“well, ideally i’d be sold out—”

he flips his wallet open and hands you his card. “i’ll take everything then.”

“everything?” you echo. 

he shrugs, shooting you a wink. “what can i say? i’m a flower guy.”

“reo,” you laugh, pushing his card back towards him. “i’m not going to let you pay me to go out with you. just go grab some takeout and come back here. a pretty face like yours is bound to sell.” 

“you’re whoring me out for business?” 

“i’m just being entrepreneurial,” you counter. 

he crosses his arms over his chest, a handsome grin on his face. “alright, but i’ll need to be compensated for my efforts. maybe even with a kiss…”

you roll your eyes (albeit with a smile) as you point at the restaurant. “at least buy me lunch first.”

[lenoraslament]

Slytherin Boys React: Romantic Moments

After my last three posts, consider this aftercare.

Fluff 💕no warnings

Mattheo Riddle

It’s been raining for days. You convinced a reluctant Mattheo to duck into a coffee shop as it poured outside. The atmosphere was cozy and perfect. The rain beat steady on the window and the smell of coffee warmed you.

You both sit sipping hot chocolate, whipped cream unknowingly on your lip. Mattheo had been grumpy all day, but at the sight he grins.

“What?” You ask with a smile. Mattheo cups your chin with once hand, wiping the whipped cream off your lip with his own as you giggle. Then he brushes his lips against yours as he teases you ghosting a kiss leaving you flustered.

“You know I love you, yea?” He asks softly as he gives you another warm kiss. Your heart flutters and he brushes hair off your face, his eyes full of adoration.

“Yes I know,” you say breathlessly as he kisses you endlessly.

Theodore Nott

The biting cold air, makes you shivers your boyfriend looks unbothered in his coat. Another drag of cigarette smoke fills the air as it leaves his lips.

He’s as quiet as usual, forever lost in whatever quiet struggles he never wants to share with you. Theo observes you let out a shiver.

“Come here,” he says opening his coat, he pulls you forward. Your arm goes around his waist as he covers you both with the coat. You can smell his cologne and the smoke, his body warms you immediately as you sigh with relief.

“Better beautiful?” He asks in a low voice as he kisses the top of your head between drags.

Lorenzo Berkshire

It’s no secret that Enzo is popular with the ladies. Before you came along, he was quite the flirt. It comes natural to him, his charm. The way he can make a girl giggle and blush without much effort. And although he has reformed his ways, sometimes it just happens

You’re walking towards the Great Hall when you see a gaggle of girls surrounding your boyfriend. You’re secure in your relationship, so you only roll your eyes and laugh.

Enzo spots you immediately through the crowd, your little smirk making his eyes light up.

“Pardon me ladies” he says as he makes his way to you, grabbing your arm to pull you back before you get to far.

“Enzo it’s-“ you protest but he cuts you off before you can finish. He dips you back, kissing you in the way only Lorenzo Berkshire can.

“Sorry, I need some time with my girl,” he calls over to the group of fangirls he was talking to as his eyes stay glued to you. You both walk away as they all swoon.

Draco Malfoy

Draco was sitting in an armchair near the settee you draped yourself in the common room.

“Darling,” Draco’s voice snapped you out of your reading trance. You smiled over your book at him with an inquisitive look.

“Yes?” You asked tilting your head.

“Sit” he said in a low voice that made you blush as he patted his lap. His arms outstretched waiting for you as you sheepishly made your way over to him. He pulled you in his lap face nuzzling into your neck.

“I missed you beautiful,” he mumbles against your skin.

Your soft laugh makes him look up at you. “Draco, I am sitting less than two feet away,” your lips are nearly brushed against his as he holds the back of your neck gently.

“Still” he says as closes the distance between your lips.

Blaise Zabini

“It’s fifteen galleons,” your voice carries outside the dressing room.

“Well let’s see it then,” Blaise says, he’s been following you around Hogsmeade for the better part of the afternoon and you hopelessly look for a dress. The Yule ball on the horizon and you’re certain you will end up wearing your school uniform the way your shopping trip is going.

“It’s too expensive,” you insist, “I don’t even want to see it and risk liking it”.

Blaise hand plunges into the curtain of the fitting room pulling you out. You huff as you stand in front of the large mirror and are stunned. It’s gorgeous, clinging to your body in all the right places. A silvery blue making your cheeks look rosy, giving you an ethereal glow. It’s exactly what you want.

Before you groan in devastation, Blaise slips a hand around your waist from behind as he joins you in the mirror.

“You are perfection,” he whispers in your ear as he plants a soft kiss on your neck.

“It’s too exp-“ you begin to protest but he reaches back and rips off the tag making you gasp.

“We’ll take this one,” he says walking to the cashier to pay for the dress throwing you a wink.

Tom Riddle

All week you had spent trying your damnedest to understand this potion. Your boyfriend patiently explaining and re-explaining the complexity of the ingredients, the theories of brewing. Somehow it wouldn’t stick. Tom assured you that once you for in front of that cauldron it would all make sense.

It didn’t. The day of your exam, your mind went blank. Your professor sighed as he looked at the discolored gloop dripping out of your cauldron.

“I’ll give you an incomplete,” He said shaking his head, “you can make it up in a week Y/N but I have to say I’m disappointed,”

You nodded and thanked him as your heart sunk. The end of class was nearing and you dreaded seeing Tom. His grades were perfect, his standards impossibly high. Part of the connection you shared was your intellect. You felt tears of shame threatening to spill. When you saw him leaning against the wall outside your class, you let go.

Tom’s eyes widened as he observed your flushed cheeks covered in tears as you could only manage to shake your head. In an uncharacteristic panic he crossed the hall and immediately threw his arms around you as you sobbed onto his chest. The public display of his affection that never happened was not lost on you. His hand wiped your face and stroked your hair.

“Shh it’s okay,” he whispered against your forehead as he rubbed your back.

“You must think I’m an idiot,” you stutter out between hitching breaths.

His lips brush against your temple as he kisses it softly, “I think you’re brilliant.”

[vanishingstarrs]

twenty something ( k. bakugo x reader, established relationship, just soft and pure vibes, down bad bakugo ) ( it was my bday on friday and i wanted to write something short and sweet, self indulgent for sure )

You didn’t care for birthdays.

You had never made a huge fuss over your own, anyway.

The last birthday party you remember having was back when you were still obsessed with fairy princesses and only spoke in broken sentences, likely only five.

Since then, it had really only ever been small dinners and hardly any presents. Your family never really had the means to do anything huge and you told yourself you never minded, that all you ever cared for was the acknowledgment of the day. And that was never skipped or glanced over, there was never a lack of love and you always felt grateful for another year.

It was true, you did feel that way and after the war those feelings only grew. You were more appreciative than ever, even more so for all the new friends and loved ones in your life.

Your boyfriend, Katsuki, especially.

And though you weren’t expecting anything, your boyfriend had other ideas. He’d come over the night before to make you dinner and give you a few gifts he’d gotten you. You swooned over his attention to detail, he cooked your favorite meal and got you things he knew you’d love.

“Katsuki…”

“I know.” He sighed,“You might not wanna accept it, I know how you are, you think it’s too much, but I’m not returning it.”

He stood up, walking behind you and pulling the intricately detailed locket from the box you had just opened, he unclasped it and moved your hair aside to secure it onto your neck,“Open it.”

You listened, opening the locket and feeling your heart swell.

Your boyfriend had not only gone through the trouble to get both your initials engraved on the back of the necklace, but he’d already gone ahead and selected two of your favorite pictures. One was just your favorite photo of him and the second was one of you two together from the first date you’d gone on together. It’d taken you so long to convince him to take that picture with you and as a result was now one of your favorites.

“Thank you, my love.” You looked up and kissed his cheek,“I love it very much.”

“Just thought you should have something, just in case…”

You gave him a look,“We don’t think like that, love, but I appreciate the sentiment you were going for and I’ll cherish it, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, baby.” He gave you a small smile,“Alright, you can open the rest, this was the only major one, don’t worry.”

You smiled and shared another kiss before proceeding to go through the rest of the gifts he’d gotten you. You worked in the hospital and he’d gotten a few things that would be useful; a few cute pens, a new pair of comfy shoes you’d been wanting to try out since your feet were always killing you, and a brand new water bottle (your last one got crushed after you accidentally ran it over with your car) and with it he’d also gotten tons of adorable stickers to decorate it.

You smiled big when you pulled a Hello Kitty plush out of the next bag and he rolled his eyes like he hadn’t been the one to purchase it.

“Don’t think I’m feeding your addiction to that weird ass cat.” He scoffed,“Just thought this one was actually kind of cool.”

Cool was an understatement.

Hello Kitty was known for lots of collabs with many of your favorite shows and characters, but this one? This plush was dressed in your boyfriend’s hero costume and the tag on it had his hero agency’s name on it so it was definitely official and not just some knock off.

“Didn’t even know they made these.” He explained,“Don’t remember approving that shit.”

You blushed,“I might’ve seen the papers on your desk one day and signed for you…”

“What?!” He stood up, shocked.

You shrugged,“I didn’t know they were actually going to go through with it, Sanrio teases lots of collabs so when I never saw it in stores I just guessed they went a different route.”

“When were you even in my office?” He asked, curious instead of upset.

“About a month ago, baby, remember? You were asked to patrol last minute because Eijiro’s wife went into labor and we had planned to have lunch together so I ended up dropping off food just in case you got a chance to stop and eat. I think your assistant, what’s his name, dropped off the papers and since I saw the logo on it… and well, I couldn’t help peeking.” You told him the story, feeling slightly guilty.

He rolled his eyes,“You’re lucky I don’t give a shit about that kinda stuff, otherwise I’d—”

You gasped suddenly,“Oh. My. God! Baby, what if they ask you to do a photo shoot with Hello Kitty, herself?! Wouldn’t that be amazing?”

Your boyfriend couldn’t help chuckle at your excitement,“I suppose it would be, a little bit, and I promise if that happens you’ll be on set with me that day, don’t worry.”

“Thank you, sweetie.” You gave him a big kiss and he handed you one final bag.

“Last one.” He said.

You rose an eyebrow at him as you peeked inside,“A dress? Do we have an occasion?”

“Only the best day of the year.” Katsuki took your hand and pulled you up to give you a hug,“I wanted to celebrate with you today because I’m a selfish bastard and I like having you to myself.” You felt him check his watch,“It’s officially midnight and officially your birthday.”

He pulled away slightly, holding your waist with one arm and placing his other hand on your cheek, making you immediately lean into the warmth of his touch. The kiss he gave you was gentle and full of so much love, you already knew this was your favorite of all birthdays just for the fact that you were spending it with him.

You opened your eyes and his gaze gave you butterflies, you felt like you did on your first date.

“Happy birthday, my love.”

“Thank you, Katsuki.” Your cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so much.

“And I lied.” He said,“I do have one more thing for you, but it won’t be until later. We’ll sleep soon, and I’ll have a few more things to take care of before it, but I’d like you to take my card—”

“Baby, no…” You began to deny, he’d already gotten you enough.

“Yes.” He insisted,“You have a dress, all you need to do is find some accessories. Get some shoes, buy a new purse, hell buy yourself the whole store, baby, go fucking crazy. I’m asking nicely, and I’ll make sure you get something, trust me. And I want you ready by three, got it?”

You knew arguing with your boyfriend was pointless, that was one bad thing about the both of you, you were equally stubborn and fighting only ended when you got tired of it.

“Fine.” You relented.

True to his word, you went to bed soon after the gifts. Your boyfriend brought an overnight bag and you were happy to have him hold you in bed. When you woke up, however, his side of the bed was empty and in its place lay a birthday card.

You picked it up, smiling at the design he’d gone with and pictured him standing in front of the display for a long time before deciding. You opened it and out fell your boyfriend’s credit card, you rolled your eyes and set it aside to read the contents of the note.

Happy birthday, my pretty girl. I know you’re new to celebrating, but I plan to change that soon. You deserve the world and more, I’ll do my best to make sure you get it.

P.S. Please enjoy this breakfast (see nightstand) and be dressed by 9. Mina will be stopping by to ensure you shop for all your needs.

P.P.S. I love you.

You quickly turned and found the aforementioned breakfast, a cup of hot coffee, and a beautiful bouquet of tulips decorated your nightstand. You smiled and snapped a photo, sending it to your boyfriend along with a thank you.

He must’ve just left to take care of whatever he was planning.

You tried not to think about it or your nerves and overthinking would definitely kick in. You ate your food and sipped your coffee in bed while checking and responding to any birthday messages, picking up immediately when you saw your parents calling. You almost teared up when they started singing happy birthday and laughed along with them, asking if you’ll see them later in the week for your annual dinner. They agreed and you finished the call with ‘I love you’s’.

By the time nine rolled around, you were ready and right on time was Mina’s knocking on your door. You opened it and got greeted with a hug.

“I heard free shopping trip and here I am!” She cheered,“Ready to do some damage?”

“Not quite.” You blushed,“What do you know about his plans?”

She shrugged,“Sworn to secrecy, dude, sorry.”

You scoffed and laughed as you said,“Whatever happened to chicks before dicks?”

You’d met Mina as a result of dating Katsuki and ever since then you’d hit it off with her as much as you had your boyfriend, you never really had too many close girlfriends and she was a very welcome surprise into your life.

“Doing this for my chick.” She elbowed you teasingly,“So grab ya bag, girl, we have places to be and money to spend!”

You listened, grabbing your purse and reluctantly taking your boyfriend’s card as per his request.

It didn’t take long for Mina to decide which stores you should head into. It did, however, take more than a few for you to actually want to buy anything. It wasn’t that you didn’t see things you liked, but it was hard for you to accept your boyfriend was paying for you.

You’d been brought up to be independent and though you knew the importance of being taken care of, it was hard not being the giver for once.

A pair of shoes eventually caught your eye and Mina caught on quick, calling over an associate with a mischievous smile,“My friend would love to see these in a size seven, please.”

“Right away, miss.”

The woman left to find them and you sighed,“I don’t know, Mina.”

“Girl, please, your man literally is begging you to spend some of his money and you’re hesitating? These shoes are to die for and he explicitly stated you should get some to match your dress. We already got a few cute pieces of jewelry, I think these would match perfectly to those.”

In the end, Mina convinced you. Or the saleswoman did, when she revealed the shoes you were trying on would actually go on sale next week and that she’d be happy to adjust the price for your special occasion.

For once, you’d been happy to reveal it was your birthday and you walked away even happier with your bargain made.

“That was so nice of her.” You beamed as you followed Mina around a purse store she liked.

You definitely didn’t need one of those, but your eyes wandered aimlessly to pass the time.

“Mhm.” She agreed before holding up a bag,“And how hot is this bag?! C’mon, Bakugo would want you to have this.”

You regretted turning around as you actually really liked the one she’d been trying to show you,“Nope, got a bag, but thanks.”

“And you have shoes and jewelry, babe, the whole point of this trip was to treat yourself.” Your friend countered. She was right and you hated it.

You sighed,“I know, but I bought stuff already…”

“A few inexpensive sterling silver rings off that lady’s booth outside and a pair of shoes marked way down from the original price, this would be an actual treat.”

“Yes, but… I mean he already got me this nice necklace and the dress and all the other little things, plus he’s planning who knows what, I don’t think I need a new purse, mine may not be designer but it’s held up and it’ll be fine for a while longer.” You explained.

“He has the means to,” Mina walked up to you and pulled your current bag off your shoulder to replace with the one she was trying to convince you on,“Plus no one ever needs a new purse, it’s a want and it’s okay to have those, you know.”

You remembered the birthday card. You deserve the world and more…

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you sighed. Mina walked up behind you and wrapped her arms around you, smiling and raising her eyebrows,“So…? Whatcha gonna do?”

She drove a hard bargain.

“You need to consider you might be in the wrong field.” You pushed her playfully as she looped her arm through yours and led the way to the cash register. Your heart might have actually broken while swiping your boyfriend’s card across and your fingers were definitely shaking as you typed in the pin for it.

You knew your boyfriend received alerts for any purchases, especially big ones, and you were just about ready to turn back around when you heard your phone ping, assuming the worst. He had to be pissed at that one.

k (ृ ु*`ω´)ु: Glad to see Mina’s doing her job, don’t you dare feel guilty. You deserve this and more. 🧡

You looked up to find Mina glancing at you and smiling,“Told ya.”

The last purchase you made was with your own money as you’d run out of your favorite blush and needed to replace it. You enjoyed lunch with your friend and she drove you back home where she proceeded to stake claim on your bedroom floor to get herself ready with you.

“You’re really not gonna tell me?” You asked your friend as you applied a light layer of foundation.

“I’m sure you could guess…” Mina shrugged as she curled her eyelashes,“But I really can’t say, all he told me was to take you shopping and keep you busy until three. He’s having a car pick us up.”

“You don’t even know?!” You turned around, shock written all over your face.

Mina snorted,“No, I’m trolling you, I totally know.”

“Ugh.”

You got ready in silence, save for some music Mina decided to play from a small portable speaker she brought with her.

Once the clock hit three, you were officially an anxious wreck. Your phone pinged.

k (ृ ु*`ω´)ु: Your carriage awaits.

You made sure Mina was ready and that you weren’t forgetting anything before heading out, finding your “carriage” was your boyfriend’s car and he stood by the passenger door, holding the door open for you with a lazy smile. He was wearing nice clothes too and your eyes stuck to him like glue,“Wow.”

“Wow yourself.” He gave you a quick kiss, careful not to smudge your lipstick.

Mina fake gagged,“You two are disgusting.”

“Shut up and get in.” Katsuki told her before turning back to you, eyes soft,“You ready?”

You released a deep breath,“I guess so… I mean what am I even ready for?”

He smiled,“Don’t stress, just go with it. You’re about to find out anyway.”

It was hard not to, and you were sure your palms were sweating more than his as Katsuki always held your hand while driving.

You were quick to recognize the drive back to his house and relaxed a little bit, deciding he was right. Enough was enough, why not just go with it? You had amazing friends and an even better boyfriend, you deserved to get treated nicely. And he would never plan anything you weren’t ready for or wouldn’t like, as proven by the night before and the morning of shopping.

You didn’t see any cars or anything parked outside his house and you narrowed your eyes at him,“What’s going on? Seriously.”

He said nothing as he got out and opened your door for you, extending a hand out and helping you out of the car in your fancy new clothes and accessories. “Close your eyes.”

“For?”

“Please.”

Mina nudged you from behind and you obliged quickly.

He held your hand and led you with one hand on your lower back as you dutifully kept your eyes closed, you heard the jingling of keys and figured Mina must be unlocking the door for you.

“Watch your step.” Katsuki warned you and you felt him help you regardless as you stepped into his house.

Not one second of warning was given before it happened.

“Surprise!”

You opened your eyes immediately, hands going up to your mouth as you found your entire group of friends in your boyfriend’s living room, wearing party hats and blowing noisemakers. Streamers and balloons littered the room and a cake with your name on it sat on a designated dessert table. You almost cried when you spotted your parents and two brothers in one section.

“Happy birthday, baby.” Katsuki whispered in your ear before you were tackled by your family first, then your friends, and even some of your work family had shown up to wish you another happy year.

You felt a little overwhelmed at first, but slowly you relaxed. It hit you how happy you were, how much joy had been brought on by everything your boyfriend had done. You hadn’t experienced this type of celebration in a long time and it was nice to be seen by those who you held dear. Your boyfriend hardly left your side as you spoke and got around to saying hi to everyone. “Don’t let him go.” Your mother even whispered into your hair as she hugged you tight and gave you kisses,“Good ones are hard to come by.”

“He’s the best.” You agreed with a huge smile.

You eventually split up as you spoke with a few of your friends and even some of his, happy to catch up with Kirishima’s wife.

You held her son and spouted baby nonsense to him as she spoke your ear off about how her husband and Katsuki had been thick as thieves planning the day months in advance, and how she’d even been roped into calling people and checking on their availability. You thanked her for being part of it and looked up to where the two men now stood away, somehow still looking mischievous. You didn’t doubt they might even already be planning the next thing.

The night went by in the blink of an eye.

You saw friends you hadn’t seen in a while, learned the hard truth of standing awkwardly in front of a cake while everyone sang happy birthday to you, ate amazing food and cake, had a couple drinks, and lastly opened a few more gifts from those who had brought one. (You may or may not have received a few more Dynamite x Hello Kitty collab items).

Katsuki held you from behind as you watched your and his friends mingle together,“Did I do a good job?”

“I don’t know how I’ll top it for yours.” You said back, turning around in his arms, placing yours around his neck,“You did amazingly, I never thought I would have this one day.”

“For the rest of your life, I promise you will.”

You didn’t know why, but it felt much heavier when he said that. Like he wasn’t just promising you a lifetime of birthday parties, but like he was promising something else. You thought back to the way he smirked at you across the room when you saw him talking to Kirishima and your heart skipped again. There was no way. You’d only been together for a little over a year…

And yet…

Nah.

You pushed those thoughts away and allowed yourself to be happy in the now.

In his arms.

You kissed him,“I love you.”

You really couldn’t have asked for a better day, surrounded by the people who loved you— or for a better boyfriend, who made you feel seen in both little and big ways. Who went out of his way to ensure you were always happy and loved. You might just have a new favorite day of the year and it was all thanks to him.

“Happy birthday, gorgeous.”

Yup, you officially loved birthdays.