#this whole team is so soft and these two are no exception

[marifilue]

Part 7: Silent Wars

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader - Slow burn, no use of y/n.

Summary: You're an X-Men member with regenerative healing ability and skilled marksman. On a routine mission with the team things take a drastic turn when a mutant-inhibitor collar is forced onto you, leaving you vulnerable, unable to heal. With no quick fix in sight, Logan becomes your reluctant anchor, helping you get through each day as you fight to survive, unexpected bond with Logan begins to grow, one that becomes far stronger than either of you could imagine.

Warnings: Explicit language, Violence, Blood

WC: 10,6k

<- Part 6

Logan stood in front of the mirror, buttoning his white shirt before adjusting the black suit Ororo had picked out for him earlier. He tugged at the fabric with a grimace, the sleek cut far from his usual rugged style. The polished shoes felt unnatural, and the stiff collar made him want to rip the whole thing apart. Still, he attempted the tie after a failing a first try, fumbling with the knot until it resembled something passable. Or so he thought. After inspecting his reflection, he sighed. “Good enough,” he muttered, stepping out of his room.

The team was leaving soon for the gala to find Killebrew, and Logan made his way down the hall. That’s when he saw you, halfway up the stairs with a basket of clean laundry in hand. You were heading toward your room, but the sight of him stopped you in your tracks. Your steps faltered, and for a moment, you just stared. Logan in a suit was unexpected, he looked sharp, almost elegant, though the sight of him trying to fit into something so formal was oddly amusing.

Your lips twitched into a grin as your eyes swept over him and you couldn’t help but think he looked like a time traveler from some period drama. Except…

“What?” Logan asked, his brow furrowing as he caught your stare.

You smirked, gesturing vaguely at his neck. “You're not leaving with that tie.”

Logan glanced down, frowning. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Are you going to a nine-to-five job or a gala?” you teased, shaking your head. Standing outside your door, you pointed a finger at him. “Don't move.”

Before he could protest, you disappeared into your room, setting the basket of laundry on your bedroom floor. You returned moments later, Logan still rooted in place, his expression an unamused mix of confusion and impatience.

Without a second thought, you walked right up to him, fingers reaching for his tie. “Hold still,” you ordered, undoing the uneven knot with quick, precise movements.

“That took me two tries,” Logan grumbled, his breath brushing against you as you worked.

“Yeah, and it shows,” you replied without missing a beat , the corner of your mouth twitching into a smile.. Your focus remained on the fabric in your hands, but you couldn’t ignore the faint scent of cologne mixed with his usual tobacco scent. He’d tried to clean up for the mission, and you silently appreciated the effort.

Logan stayed quiet, his gaze dropping to your face. He watched the way your brows furrowed in concentration, the soft purse of your lips as you looped the fabric into a neat bow tie.

“There,” you said, tightening the knot one last time. “Perfect.”

You glanced up, your words catching in your throat when you realized he was already looking at you. His hazel eyes were unrelenting, and the intensity of his gaze made your pulse stutter.

“They’re waiting for you,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended, flicking your eyes to his left, then his right, trying to avoid the pull of his stare.

“Huh?” Logan blinked, his brows lifting slightly as if snapping out of a trance.

“The team,” you repeated, stepping back to create some distance. “They’re already downstairs.”

Logan reached up, tugging at the tie as if testing your handiwork. “Right,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “Thanks.”

You offered a small smile. “Good luck.” You said, he nodded, clearing his throat. “I’ll see ya around.” his voice softer.

You turned, opening the door to your room as Logan walked down the hall and descended the stairs. Once inside, you closed the door and leaned against it, your heart racing in your chest. You glanced at laundry, waiting on your floor to be folded, but all you could think about was the way Logan had looked at you, and how it made your pulse quicken.

As you folded the last of your laundry. It was a simple, repetitive task, but tonight, even mundane chores couldn’t keep your mind from wandering. Yesterday’s news lingered heavily in your thoughts—a cancer diagnosis. Your mind refused to fully grasp it. How could it? One day you were fighting alongside mutants, the next you were grappling with mortality in a way you never imagined.

Pushing the thoughts aside, you grabbed the laundry basket and headed downstairs. Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters felt eerily calm tonight. Scott, Jean, Ororo, Logan, and Charles were at the gala, leaving you and Hank as the only adults in charge. The younger kids were scattered throughout the mansion, laughing in small groups or lost in their own conversations.

You walked down the hallway, glancing into the TV room where a small cluster of teenagers were gathered, the sound of an action movie blaring from the screen. Hank sat in an armchair nearby, his sharp blue eyes catching yours as you entered.

“Hey,” he said, giving you a small smile. “How are you feeling?”

You sank into the couch beside him, shrugging slightly. “I’m okay. Just the headache is a pain in the ass.”

He nodded knowingly. “Have the pills been helping at all?”

You shook your head, letting out a quiet sigh. “Not much. Jean prescribed me something, but I can only take it every twelve hours. By hour six, the pain’s already back.”

You didn’t elaborate. There wasn’t a point. The words felt hollow anyway. You knew Hank and the others were doing their best, and the last thing you wanted was to make anyone feel worse. They’d given you a family here, and you owed them everything. So, for now, you swallowed your emotions and tried to keep them at bay.

The movie played on, the chatter of the kids filling the room like white noise. Maya, one of the new students, eventually joined you, curling up against your side. Her small frame fit easily under your arm, her warmth grounding you in the moment. You stroked her hair absently, letting the comfort of her presence ease some of the tension coiled in your chest.

Then, the quiet started to unravel. A distant, rhythmic thudding filled the air, faint but unmistakable.

You froze, your ears straining.

Hank noticed it too, his gaze snapping toward the window. His expression darkened, and he glanced back at you.

“Helicopters,” you muttered, your voice low.

He nodded, his jaw tightening. The sound grew louder, closer. You both knew what this meant. It wasn’t your first time dealing with an attack. It never started quietly.

You gently nudged Maya off your lap and stood, your pulse quickening. “We need to move the kids. Now.”

Hank didn’t hesitate. “I’ll take the east wing, you handle the west.”

You turned to the teenagers. “Everyone, listen up. Go to your dorms, grab your essentials, and follow the evacuation route. No questions, no hesitation. Move!”

They scattered immediately, fear flashing across their faces as the urgency in your voice spurred them into action.

You bolted down the hallway, checking every room to ensure no one was left behind. The sound of the helicopters grew deafening, vibrating through the walls. By the time you reached the hidden tunnel entrance in the west wing, a group of younger kids had already gathered, their wide eyes filled with panic.

“It’s okay,” you said, kneeling to meet their gazes. “Follow the tunnel. Stick together, and don’t stop until you reach the safe zone.”

They nodded, some of them trembling, but they moved. Once they were through, you sealed the entrance and sprinted back toward the main hall, your heart pounding as you searched for any stragglers.

“Hank, how’s the east wing?” you shouted as you met him near the center staircase.

“Cleared!” he called back, his fur bristling with tension. “They’re in the tunnels.”

The unmistakable sound of metal boots hitting the ground outside sent a chill through you. The helicopters were landing.

You exchanged a glance with Hank, a silent understanding passing between you. The kids were as safe as they could be. Now, it was up to you to buy them time.

••••••••

The sleek, polished floors of the Manhattan ballroom glimmered under the cascading light of crystal chandeliers. The gala was in full swing, with attendees dressed in tailored suits and elegant evening gowns. The room buzzed with polite conversation and the clinking of glasses, the perfect cover for the X-Men’s covert operation.

Charles Xavier’s connections had secured their invitations, giving them access to the exclusive event. The mission was clear: locate Killebrew and gather the information necessary to free you from the inhibitor collar. The team blended effortlessly into the crowd, their formal attire hiding the dangerous intent beneath the surface.

The team approached the grand staircase leading to the entrance, their polished shoes clicking softly against the marble steps. Ororo’s long, flowing red dress shimmered in the dim light, its elegant cut accentuating her regal demeanor. She walked hand in hand with Logan, a playful smile tugging at her lips as her gaze fell on his bow tie.

“I didn’t take you for a bow tie kind of guy,” Ororo remarked, her tone light but teasing.

Logan glanced sideways at her, his expression deadpan. “I’m not,” he replied gruffly, though the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement.

Just ahead of them, Jean walked hand in hand with Scott, her sleek black dress a stark contrast to his sharp navy suit. Hearing Ororo’s comment, Jean turned her head with a grin. “He’s definitely not. He didn’t even know how to do one,” she teased, her smile widening.

Scott, curious, leaned closer to Jean. “What does that mean?” he whispered, keeping his voice low.

Jean chuckled softly, glancing back at Logan. “Let’s just say it wasn’t his handiwork.”

Logan flushed slightly, the faint color creeping up his neck. Ororo’s teasing smile grew as she leaned in mock-conspiratorially. “Someone else do your bow tie?” she asked, her tone lilting as she searched his face for an answer.

Jean laughed at Logan’s evident discomfort, and Logan grunted, his usual gruff demeanor slipping into mild annoyance. “Red, if you peeked into my head, that’s really creepy, y’know. Should’ve been illegal,” he shot back, grumbling as his hand adjusted the offending bow tie.

Jean only smiled wider, clearly amused. “I wasn’t intending. Your mind’s really loud,” she quipped, her tone airy.

That set Jean, Scott, and Ororo laughing, their lightheartedness echoing down the steps. Logan rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as they finally reached the entrance, but the faintest smirk lingered on his face as he escorted Ororo inside.

Jean spotted Killebrew first, standing near the bar with a glass of champagne in hand, flanked by two bodyguards. Killebrew's posture was relaxed, his confidence oozing as if he had nothing to fear. She tilted her head slightly, signaling to Logan, who was nursing a drink a few feet away.

“Got him,” she murmured through their comms, her lips barely moving as she pretended to sip her wine.

Scott’s voice came through. “Stick to the plan. No improvisations, Logan.”

Logan grunted in response, his patience already wearing thin.

Jean, with an air of practiced elegance, glided toward Killebrew. A strategically placed stiletto misstep had her spilling her glass of red wine all over his pristine white suit.

“Oh, my goodness!” she exclaimed, feigning mortification. “I am so sorry.”

Killebrew cursed under his breath, brushing futilely at the spreading stain. “Watch where you’re going!”

Jean placed a delicate hand on his arm. “Please, let me help. The restroom is just over there.” She gestured to the nearby door with an apologetic smile.

Killebrew huffed but nodded, motioning for one of his guards to wait outside the restroom. He disappeared through the door, oblivious to the trap waiting for him.

Inside, Logan leaned casually against the wall of a stall, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. The door creaked open, and Killebrew stepped inside, muttering curses under his breath. Before he could notice anything amiss, Logan moved swiftly, grabbing him from behind and locking him in a chokehold.

“What the—” Killebrew struggled, but Logan’s grip was unyielding. Within seconds, the doctor’s body went limp, unconscious.

Logan let him drop to the floor, his expression grim. “Nighty night,” he muttered, dragging the lifeless form out of sight.

When Killebrew regained consciousness, he found himself tied to a chair inside the dimly lit interior of the Blackbird. His head lolled to the side as he groaned, his vision clearing to reveal Scott standing in front of him, arms crossed.

“We’re going to make this simple,” Scott began, his tone calm but firm. “Tell us everything you know about the inhibitor collars. How do we remove them?”

Killebrew chuckled darkly, his eyes glinting with malice. “Ah, you filthy mutants are cute. Trying to save her? Lemme tell you a thing—you can’t. She’s going to experience a slow, excruciating death. The kind that makes every second feel like a lifetime. No cure, no miracle. Just pain.”

Scott’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “Not under our watch,” he snapped, his voice steady despite the fire in his eyes.

Killebrew sneered, leaning back against the chair. “You think you’re heroes, don’t you? But the clock’s ticking. Tick-tock. And when it’s all over, you’ll realize just how helpless you really are.”

Scott stepped closer, his visor glowing faintly. “You’re going to tell us everything you know, or you’ll wish you had,” he said, his voice low with simmering anger.

Killebrew’s lips twitched into a defiant smirk. “Do you think tying me to a chair and playing good cop is going to work?”

Logan stepped out of the shadows, his claws extending with a menacing snikt. “I’m not here to play cop, bub.”

Killebrew flinched slightly at the sound but quickly masked it with a smirk, his pretentious bravado returning. “The wolverine,” he began, drawing out the name. “I’ve spent my years studying you, dissecting your genetic material, perfecting it. You’re an open book to me. Every scar, every growl, every feral instinct.”

Logan’s claws inched closer, the metal glinting in the dim light. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

Killebrew’s smirk widened, his tone turning sharper. “Oh, but I do. Just like I know about her. Fire and flesh, the perfect weapon. I built her, the way she moved on the battlefield, so precise, so merciless..”

Logan’s claws twitched, but his expression remained cold. “Keep her outta your fucking mouth.”

Killebrew tilted his head, feigning innocence. “She’s wasting her potential, playing house with your little band of mutants. But you're a bunch of fools if you think you've tamed her. It’s only a matter of time before she relapses, before she craves the chaos again. Because that’s who she is, war and death incarnate. You're just counting your days until she realizes it.”

Logan’s claws scraped against the wall as he slammed them dangerously close to Killebrew’s head, his voice a low growl. “Say another word, and I’ll make sure you don’t get a chance to regret it.”

Killebrew’s smirk faltered, but his voice remained mocking. “Touchy, aren’t we? Face it, Logan. You and she are cut from the same cloth. Weapons pretending to be people. How long until she burns everything down, just like she was made to?”

Logan leaned in close, his voice cold and unyielding. “You don’t know a damn thing about her.”

“Logan.” Jean’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. She stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder, silently asking him to stepped back.

Logan growled under his breath but retracted his claws, stepping back reluctantly.

At that moment, Charles entered the room, his calm presence immediately commanding attention. “Apologies for the delay,” he said, his gaze sweeping over the scene. “There were matters to address.”

Killebrew’s smirk returned. “The famous Professor Xavier. Come to play the moral high ground?”

Charles ignored the taunt, his expression serene as he moved closer. “Dr. Killebrew, I don’t have the luxury of time for your games.” He placed his fingers gently against his temple, his eyes closing as he delved into Killebrew’s mind.

The room fell silent, the tension thick as Charles sifted through the layers of Killebrew’s thoughts. His eyes snapped open moments later, a flicker of something dark passing across his features.

“What is it?” Scott asked, concern lacing his voice.

Charles hesitated for a moment before answering, carefully withholding the full truth. “The collars are prototypes, unfinished technology. I can't find the key to unlock them. The only way to remove them is by destroying the metal. But…” He paused, his voice heavy. “…doing so could harm the wearer.”

Logan’s fists clenched at his sides. “That’s it? That’s all this punk knows?”

Charles nodded solemnly. “Unfortunately, yes. However, I’ve learned the location of another laboratory where these collars were developed. It may hold the answers we seek.”

Scott exchanged a glance with Logan, both of them visibly frustrated but resigned.

“What do we do with him?” Logan asked, his tone cold.

Charles’ gaze shifted back to Killebrew. “He’s of no further use to us.”

Without another word, they hauled Killebrew out of the Blackbird and left him unconscious in an alleyway near the gala. As the Blackbird ascended into the night sky, Charles’ thoughts lingered on what he had seen in Killebrew’s mind—the truth about the collar’s devastating effects. For now, he chose to keep it to himself.

••••••••••

You and Hank moved swiftly through the darkened hallways of the mansion, your steps careful yet purposeful. The power had been cut, leaving the intruders at a disadvantage. While they stumbled blindly, you and Hank knew every twist and turn of the mansion’s layout by heart.

Hank, already in his Beast form, was a formidable sight as he scanned each room. “Check every corner,” he growled softly. “We can’t risk leaving anyone behind.”

Nodding, you veered off toward the equipment room. The flickering emergency lights cast an eerie glow as you entered, your eyes immediately landing on the wall-mounted array of weapons. Among them, a bulletproof vest caught your attention.

For a moment, you froze, staring at it. You hated the thought of needing it. You were the bulletproof one back then, you thought bitterly. The collar around your neck weighed heavier than ever, a constant reminder of how vulnerable you’d become.

With a resigned sigh, you grabbed the vest and adjusted it over your torso, fastening the straps securely. The irony wasn’t lost on you.

A faint noise pulled your attention, a shuffle just beyond the room’s corner. Your heart skipped a beat as you approached cautiously, your gun drawn. Turning the corner, you saw a small figure curled up, hugging her knees tightly.

“Maya,” you breathed, lowering your weapon. Your heart sank as the young girl looked up at you with wide, tear-filled eyes.

“Are they here to take me?” she whimpered, her voice trembling.

You knelt beside her, checking for injuries but finding none. “No one’s taking you, sweetheart,” you reassured her, brushing a hand over her hair. “I promise. But we need to move now, okay?”

She nodded hesitantly, her small hand clutching yours as you led her back into the hallway. You moved quickly, guiding her toward the secret tunnel where the other children were already gathering.

Just as you reached the hallway’s intersection, shadows emerged from the opposite end. Guards. Their rifles were already raised, and without hesitation, they opened fire.

“Get down!” you shouted, shoving Maya behind the wall and throwing yourself beside her. Bullets ricocheted off the metal-lined walls, the deafening sound echoing in the confined space.

Maya was trembling, her hands clamped over her ears as tears streamed down her face. Then, she screamed—a piercing, unnatural sound that made your blood run cold.

The guards crumpled immediately, their hands flying to their ears as they collapsed, unconscious or worse. But the force of her supersonic scream was overwhelming. You cried out, your hands instinctively covering your ears, but it wasn’t enough. Pain exploded in your head, and you felt a warm trickle down your neck. Your ears were bleeding.

Maya was sobbing now, horrified by what she’d done. Gritting your teeth against the pain, you forced yourself to your feet, pulling her up with you. “It’s okay,” you said, your voice hoarse. “You did good. Now let’s keep going.”

You led her the rest of the way, your vision swimming slightly from the pain in your head. Finally, you reached the tunnel entrance, where Hank was ushering the children inside. He took one look at you and Maya, his sharp eyes narrowing at the blood streaking from your ears.

“She’s safe,” you rasped, gently pushing Maya toward him.

Hank nodded, his massive hand resting reassuringly on Maya’s shoulder as he guided her into the tunnel. “Now go,” he told her firmly.

Turning back, you adjusted your vest and readied your weapon. “Let’s finish this.”

Hank’s lips curled into a fierce grin. “Gladly.”

The two of you moved together, a practiced dance of coordination honed through years of training. You stayed low, firing calculated shots to disable the guards. Meanwhile, Hank charged forward, his claws slashing through their ranks with precision.

The intruders wore full black tactical gear, but even their advanced equipment couldn’t match Hank’s brute strength or your unerring aim. You fired at an enemy attempting to flank Hank, your shot hitting its mark and dropping him instantly.

Another guard lunged at you, but you sidestepped, slamming the butt of your gun into his temple. He fell unconscious, his weapon clattering to the ground.

Hank roared as he took down the last of them, his claws raking through the guard’s chest plate and sending him flying into the wall.

Breathing hard, you leaned against the wall for a moment, your hands trembling slightly. “Is that all of them?”

Hank sniffed the air, his sharp senses searching for any remaining threats. “For now,” he said, his tone cautious.

You reloaded your weapon, your ears still ringing from Maya’s scream. “I'm just getting warmed up,” you muttered.

Hank nodded, his gaze softening for a moment. “You’re doing good,” he said, his voice quieter now.

You offered him a faint smile. “So are you.”

With that, the two of you turned and began to sweep the mansion again, ensuring it was secure. But in the back of your mind, you couldn’t stop thinking about Maya’s terrified question. Are they here to take me?

And you wondered just how much longer any of you could hold out.

You and Hank stood in the backyard of the mansion, both watching as the remaining helicopters retreated in the distance.

“They’re aborting?” you asked, your voice laced with suspicion, your grip still tight on the rifle in your hands.

Hank adjusted his glasses, still in his Beast form, his expression grim. “Seems like it. But why?”

Your question was answered almost immediately as the Blackbird appeared, its engines roaring as it hovered on the other side of the mansion. You exchanged a quick glance with Hank, and without a word, the two of you sprinted toward the hangar, Hank flipping the mansion’s power back on with a flick of a hidden switch as you ran.

By the time you reached the hangar, the Blackbird had landed, its ramp lowering smoothly. Professor Xavier was the first to emerge, his calm gaze meeting yours. He didn’t ask a single question—he didn’t need to. The weight of what had happened was already evident in his expression as he absorbed the chaos from your mind and Hank’s.

Logan followed close behind, his movements hurried and purposeful, his bow tie askew and his black suit already unbuttoned. He barely glanced at where he stepped as his eyes immediately landed on you, scanning you from head to toe.

“What happened?” Logan demanded, his voice rough with concern. His sharp gaze zeroed in on your disheveled appearance, noting the blood smeared along your neck and the exhaustion evident in your posture.

You couldn’t even summon the energy to answer. Your limbs felt like lead, and the weight of the bulletproof vest dug into your shoulders.

Hank stepped in, his tone measured despite the tension. “There was an attack—three helicopters. Two of them left as soon as you arrived.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists as he continued to watch you. Your knees wobbled slightly under the combined weight of the vest and firearm, and with a soft grunt of frustration, you shrugged the vest off, letting it fall to the floor alongside with the firearm with a dull thud. The noise felt distant, your vision blurring slightly as nausea twisted your stomach.

The voices around you became muffled, distorted, as you pressed a trembling hand to your mouth. Acid burned at the back of your throat, and without saying a word, you turned and bolted for the bathroom down the hall.

“Shit,” you heard Logan mutter behind you, followed by the heavy sound of his boots as he moved after you. “I’ll check on her,” he called back to the team.

You barely made it to the toilet before throwing up, your body trembling as your stomach heaved violently. The pain in your head pounded in time with your heartbeat, making the world spin.

A moment later, you felt Logan’s presence behind you, his familiar scent of cigar smoke grounding you. He didn’t say a word, but you heard the sound of him pulling tissues from the dispenser.

When you felt his hands gently gather your hair and hold it back, you froze for a second, caught off guard by the tenderness of the gesture. He crouched beside you, one hand steadying your hair while the other offered a tissue.

Wordlessly, you took it, wiping your mouth as you flushed the toilet. For a moment, you simply leaned against the cool porcelain, trying to steady your breathing.

“I can see your night is much more fun than mine,” Logan quipped, his voice low but with a touch of that familiar sarcasm.

You let out a weak laugh, the corners of your mouth twitching despite everything. “Fuck off, Logan,” you muttered, though your tone lacked any real bite.

He smirked, releasing your hair as he stood, his eyes never leaving you. When he noticed the unsteadiness in your movements, he instinctively reached down, offering his hand.

For once, you didn’t argue. Placing both hands on his for support, you allowed him to help you up. Your legs wobbled slightly, but with his steady grip, you managed to stay upright.

As you moved to the sink, Logan hovered close behind, his presence both comforting and suffocating. You turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on your face before catching sight of your reflection in the mirror. The dried blood on your ears and neck painted a grim picture.

Grabbing a tissue, you dampened it with water and started wiping the blood away from your left ear. Logan watched silently for a moment before stepping closer, his movements deliberate. Without asking, he grabbed another tissue, dampened it, and began wiping the blood from your right ear.

You tensed at first, but his careful touch surprised you. He was gentle, his rough fingers brushing against your skin with an unexpected softness. Through the mirror, you caught sight of him—still dressed in his suit, bow tie slightly loose, his expression unreadable.

“You okay?” he asked finally, his voice softer than before.

You leaned against the sink, your exhaustion catching up with you. “Maya,” you said quietly, your voice hoarse. “The intruder… they were shooting at us. She got scared and screamed. Her mutation, I think it's a supersonic scream.”

“Huh, explains why you look like hell.” He muttered, his voice low

You huffed a tired laugh, the corners of your lips twitching despite the pain in your head. “Thanks for the compliment, as always.” your gaze falling to the sink as you gripped its edges. “She saved us,” you added after a moment. “It nearly broke me.”

Logan didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he finished cleaning the blood from your neck and discarded the tissue in the trash. When he finally spoke, his voice was low but steady.

“You did good,” he said, his tone gruff but sincere. “Getting her out of there,” His tone was a bit different this time, you could sense there's something more coming.

“But you shouldn’t have gone in alone,” he said after a long silence, his tone gruff but not unkind.

You stiffened slightly, glancing at his reflection. “What choice do I have? Hank and I had to protect the kids. You weren’t exactly here.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his hazel eyes flicking up to meet yours in the mirror. “Still. You’re human now. You don’t have a healing factor to fall back on anymore.”

The reminder hit harder than you cared to admit. Your grip on the sink tightened as you felt your stomach twist, the weight of the collar around your neck seemingly growing heavier.

“I know what I am,” you snapped, more harshly than intended.

Logan didn’t flinch, his gaze unwavering. “Yeah? Then maybe you should start actin’ like it.”

Your temper flared, the exhaustion and pain boiling over. You turned abruptly, facing him. “I don’t need a lecture from you, Logan. I did what I had to do to keep Maya safe.”

His hands dropped to his sides, his shoulders tensing. For a moment, neither of you said anything, the air between you crackling with unspoken emotions.

Finally, Logan took a step closer, his presence overpowering in the small bathroom. “And what happens next time? Or the time after that? How many more of these do you think you can handle before—” He stopped himself, his voice catching.

“Before what?” you challenged, your voice trembling. “Before I die? Is that what you’re worried about?”

His eyes darkened, the intensity in them making your breath hitch. He didn’t answer, but the way he looked at you said everything.

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. Then, as if sensing you were seconds away from breaking, Logan’s voice softened. “You’re not alone in this, y’know.”

The words hit harder than any argument could have. Your resolve wavered, and you let out a shaky breath, your shoulders slumping. “I know,” you murmured. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

Logan’s hand hesitated before reaching out, his rough fingers brushing against your arm in an awkward but sincere gesture of comfort. “It’s not supposed to be easy,” he said quietly.

You nodded slowly, unable to meet his eyes. The vulnerability in his voice, paired with his uncharacteristic gentleness, was too much. It threatened to unravel the fragile control you had left.

Logan seemed to sense this, because he stepped back, giving you space. “C’mon,” he said, his voice back to its usual gruffness. “Let’s get you back out there before the team thinks you’ve keeled over.”

You forced a faint smile, wiping your damp hands on your pants. “Right. Can’t let them think I’m weak.”

Logan smirked, though his eyes still held a shadow of concern. “You? Weak? Not a chance.”

Without waiting for a response, he opened the door, holding it for you as you stepped into the hallway. You didn’t miss the way he hovered slightly behind you, close enough to catch you if you stumbled.

••••••••

Scott and Ororo led the children down the hall, their calm voices echoing softly as they reassured the kids that they were safe here, far from the chaos outside. You envied their composure, the way they seemed to have endless patience and strength to guide others. Meanwhile, you sat stiffly in the laboratory, your back against the cold surface of the examination table.

God, how you loathed this place—the sterile white walls, the smell of antiseptic that lingered in the air, and the bright overhead lights that always seemed too harsh. The memories tied to labs like these made your skin crawl, yet here you were again.

Jean approached with a syringe in hand, her movements calm and deliberate. “Just a quick injection,” she said, offering a small smile as she prepared the needle.

You didn’t bother asking what it was; you trusted her enough, but that didn’t make you feel any less like a test subject under scrutiny.

Your attention drifted across the room to where Logan stood in the corner, deep in conversation with Professor Xavier. Their voices were too low for you to hear, leaving you to wonder what they could possibly be discussing. Logan’s posture was tense, his arms crossed over his chest as he nodded occasionally to whatever the Professor was saying.

“Something on your mind?” Jean’s voice broke through your thoughts as she administered the injection.

You blinked, realizing you’d been staring. Jean followed your gaze to Logan, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “He cares about you,” she said casually, as if stating a simple fact.

“Huh?” You frowned, caught off guard.

“Logan,” Jean said, her tone light and teasing. “He has a soft spot for you.”

You stared at her, taken aback by her words. “Why are you so sure ab—” You stopped mid-sentence, realization dawning as you remembered Jean’s telepathic abilities. A sense of discomfort crept over you. “Never mind, forget I asked. Please don’t get into my head too. I feel violated.”

Jean chuckled softly as she set the empty syringe aside and reached for another to draw your blood. “The feeling is mutual, don’t worry.”

“I don’t know what you mean by that,” you said, feigning ignorance, though the slight heat creeping up your neck betrayed you.

Jean didn’t press further, her grin widening as she focused on her task. “Relax,” she said, her tone soothing as she carefully inserted the needle into your arm. “I’ll need to scan your brain again after this. Then you’re free to go.”

You nodded, your eyes drifting away as she drew the sample. The hum of the lab’s equipment filled the silence, a stark reminder of how much you hated being in spaces like this. Every second felt like an eternity, and you couldn’t wait to be anywhere else.

Jean capped the vial and stepped away to label it, leaving you to brood quietly. The endless tests, the needles, the scans—it all blurred together into an exhausting cycle that left you drained.

“Almost done,” Jean assured you as she returned, her hands already reaching for the scanner. “Then you can go back to pretending none of this ever happened.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you muttered, though you knew deep down that forgetting wasn’t an option.

Your business in the lab was finally over. Jean dismissed you with a reassuring nod, the tests done for now. Logan was leaning casually against the doorframe, waiting for you to leave. His sharp gaze softened when he saw you step out, exhaustion written across your face. Professor Xavier gave you a small smile as you passed, his voice calm and encouraging.

“Get some rest,” he said, his words heavy with understanding. As he turned back toward Jean to discuss something—what, you could only guess—you were already walking away, longing for your bed and the peace of sleep.

The hallway felt quiet, the weight of the night pressing down on you. Logan followed a few steps behind, still clad in the suit and bow tie you’d made earlier. The sight would’ve amused you under different circumstances, but now it only reminded you of how much had happened in a single night.

“We’ve got a lead,” Logan said, breaking the silence. His voice was steady, calm, yet purposeful.

You glanced at him, too tired to muster much of a reaction. “How strong of a lead?” you asked, your voice weak and raspy.

“It’s pretty solid,” he replied. “We’ll check out the lab where they made that collar first thing tomorrow—at dawn.”

You looked up at him, the weight of guilt settling heavily in your chest. The team had barely rested, and now they were preparing for yet another mission. You wanted to help more, to be more useful, but your current state made that feel impossible.

“So, you found Killebrew?” you asked, curiosity breaking through your exhaustion.

Logan shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah. The bastard wasn’t much of a help. We left him unconscious in a dark alley.”

The way he said it, with that familiar gruffness, made you grin despite yourself. A small, satisfied chuckle escaped your lips. “Serves him right,” you murmured, the hint of amusement lightening your expression.

Logan gave you a sideways glance, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, as if your reaction pleased him. But he didn’t say anything more, letting the silence settle between you both as you reached your doors.

The two of you arrived at your floor, your footsteps slowing as you reached your respective doors. The soft light in the hallway illuminated Logan’s face, his usual stoic expression giving way to something gentler.

“Thank you,” you said, hesitating with your hand hovering over your door handle. “For everything. I wish I could be more of a help.”

Logan shook his head slightly, his gaze meeting yours. “You just need to rest,” he said, his voice low but firm. “We’ll handle it.”

His words, simple as they were, carried a weight of reassurance that made your chest tighten.

“Goodnight, Logan,” you said softly, pushing open your door.

“Night…” he muttered, your name slipping past his lips with an almost inaudible tenderness.

You stepped inside your room, closing the door behind you. The bed called to you, its promise of comfort irresistible. You swallowed the pill by your nightstand, the bitter taste barely registering as exhaustion overtook you.

Within minutes, sleep claimed you, pulling you into its embrace and silencing the chaos of the night.

••••••••

The morning was cold and heavy with anticipation. The team gathered in the hangar just before dawn, their faces set with determination despite the early hours and you were still asleep, safe and sound in your room. The Blackbird hummed with power, its sleek frame ready to take them to their destination. Pennsylvania laboratorium, where the inhibitor collar was created.

Logan stood near the ramp, adjusting his gloves, his expression unreadable. Scott was at the helm, running pre-flight checks, while Ororo’s white hair shimmered faintly in the dim light as she prepared for potential weather manipulation. Jean, her brows furrowed, sat beside Charles, whose calm demeanor anchored them all.

“Alright, team,” Charles said, his voice clear and steady. “This lab may hold the answers we seek, but it is also likely to be heavily guarded. Be cautious and stay together. Goodluck” Charles gave a speech before wheeling down from the blackbird, watching the team before they take off.

The Blackbird took off smoothly, cutting through the early morning skies.

After an hour trip trough the sky, industrial park on the city’s outskirts was desolate, abandoned structures looming like ghosts in the dawn light. The lab was tucked away in one of the larger buildings, its entrance obscured by rusting machinery and overgrown weeds.

Logan sniffed the air as the team approached. “Blood,” he muttered, his jaw tightening.

Scott led the group, disabling a few rusted cameras with precise blasts. The entrance was locked, but Ororo’s lightning made short work of it. Inside, the lab was a stark contrast to its dilapidated exterior. Sterile white walls gleamed under harsh fluorescent lights, and the air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and something far darker.

Rows of steel tables lined the main hallway, some still holding remnants of experiments—tools, dried blood, and shattered syringes. Jean paused, her hand brushing the air as her telepathy picked up faint echoes of terror and pain.

“I can feel it,” she murmured. “Fear… desperation. The mutants they brought here…”

One side room caught Logan’s eye. He stepped inside, finding containment pods arranged against the walls. Some were cracked, their contents long gone, while others held lifeless figures suspended in fluid—mutants who hadn’t survived.

Jean entered behind him, her breath hitching. “Maya Fernandez” she said, spotting a file on a nearby desk. It contained detailed notes on her mutation, the experiments she endured, and a chilling final note: Subject released. No further use.

Logan’s hands tightened into fists, the claws threatening to unsheathe. “Bastards,” he growled.

As the team moved deeper into the lab, a sensor tripped. Alarms blared, and laser turrets descended from the ceiling, their beams sweeping for targets.

“Get down!” Scott shouted, blasting the nearest turret with his visor.

Ororo summoned a gust of wind, disorienting the remaining turrets long enough for Logan to charge forward, slicing through the machinery with brutal efficiency.

“It’s never easy, is it?” Logan muttered, shaking off sparks from his claws.

In a darkened corridor, a containment pod hissed open, releasing a creature unlike anything they’d seen before. It was part animal, part weapon—its skin patched with metal, its eyes wild with rage. The creature roared, lunging at Logan.

“Keep moving!” Logan barked at the team, meeting the creature head-on.

The fight was vicious, claws against metal, but Logan’s ferocity kept the creature at bay. Jean and Scott worked together, using blasts and telekinesis to pin the creature long enough for Ororo to incapacitate it with a precise lightning strike.

As it collapsed, Logan stared down at it, breathing heavily. “What've they done to you..” he said, his voice gruff. Logan didn't have the heart to abandoned the creature, he needs to bring it back with him, to rescue it.

In the lab’s control room, Jean hacked into the computers, her fingers flying across the keys. “There’s a lot here,” she said, her voice strained. “Blueprints for the inhibitor collar, notes on Killebrew’s research… and a list of other labs. This isn’t just one operation—it’s a network.”

Scott frowned. “How big?”

“Big enough,” Jean replied, pulling a hard drive from the terminal just as the screens flickered.

An automated voice blared: “Self-destruct sequence initiated. Five minutes remaining.”

“Damn it!” Scott cursed.

The team sprinted through the lab as explosions began to rock the building. Logan carried the unconscious creature over his shoulder, while Jean levitated files and equipment to safety. Ororo summoned gusts of wind to clear debris from their path, and Scott led the way, blasting through blocked corridors.

They barely made it out, the lab erupting into flames behind them as they boarded the Blackbird.

The creature Logan carried into the Blackbird was a massive hybrid, a mix between a wolf and a dog. Its fur was patchy, revealing scarred, raw skin beneath, especially around its back and legs where jagged metal plates were fused into its flesh.

The head was wolf-like, with sharp, predatory features. Its long tail was thick, partly covered in metal, giving it a monstrous, patchwork look. Its claws were unnervingly sharp, with metallic tips, and its muscular frame suggested immense strength. Despite its fearsome appearance, the creature lay still, unconscious, but radiated an unsettling power.

Logan carefully maneuvered the creature’s unconscious body into the back of the Blackbird, a low growl vibrating through its chest. Its enormous frame filled most of the space in the compartment. As he secured it, the creature’s heavy, metal-patched skin shimmered faintly in the dim light, and Logan's mind raced to piece together what had happened.

He muttered a low curse as he stepped back, making sure it wouldn’t move too much.

The door slid open just as he settled into the seat, and Scott stepped in, his eyes widening at the sight of the creature in the back.

“Why the hell is that thing here!?” Scott nearly yelled, his voice sharp with disbelief as he stepped further into the Blackbird. His eyes were wide, fixed on the unconscious creature sprawled across the rear compartment.

“It’s just a dog,” Logan muttered, grumbling under his breath as he sank into the seat. His tone was dismissive, but the way he avoided Scott’s gaze spoke volumes.

Scott wasn’t convinced. “A dog? Do you have any idea what you’ve just brought on board? Put it back where you found it, Logan,” he demanded, his voice rising again. “What happens if that thing wakes up while we’re flying fifteen thousand feet above the ground? You’re risking all of us!”

Logan shot him a sideways glance, his expression stony. “Then it’ll be my responsibility, I've got it under control just fine” he said curtly, flipping switches on the control panel. “Take your seat. We’re taking off now.”

Scott opened his mouth to argue further but stopped himself, his jaw tightening. Shaking his head, he muttered something under his breath and took his seat near the front.

Jean and Ororo stood near the entrance, both looking uncertain, unsure of how to respond. Jean’s eyes flicked between the creature and Logan, but she didn’t speak, sensing the tension in the air. Ororo, however, wasted no time, walking briskly toward the cockpit. Without another word, she slid into the co-pilot seat, hands already working to start the Blackbird.

The Blackbird’s engines roared to life as Ororo guided the jet into the sky, leaving the argument—and the mysterious creature—behind them for now.

••••••••••

The smell of sizzling eggs and freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen as you stood by the stove, flipping eggs with a practiced hand. You had only woken up half an hour ago, but there was already a certain rhythm to the morning. The soft buzz of the mansion's quiet atmosphere was comforting, but it didn’t help quiet the nerves in your chest.

You glanced up at the clock. It was almost nine. The team was due back soon.

A sense of anxious anticipation rolled through you. The mission, whatever had happened in that lab, still weighed heavily on your mind. You cracked open another egg, a quiet focus settling over you as you worked.

But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different. The Blackbird had landed a few minutes ago, its distinctive hum now just a faint noise in the background. You could almost feel the tension rising in the air as the team returned.

You finished plating the breakfast, glancing out the kitchen window and catching a glimpse of the Blackbird. It was always strange to see it land so quietly, its presence belying the intensity of what it carried inside.

With a sigh, you put the finishing touches on the breakfast and placed it on the counter. The team would need food and rest, but more than that, you were eager to know what had happened out there. What had they found at the lab?

The hangar buzzed faintly with energy as the Blackbird powered down. Hank approached the team, his sharp eyes scanning the group. "Everyone in one piece?" he asked, his tone calm but probing. His gaze lingered on Logan, who gestured toward the massive, unconscious creature slumped near the back of the jet.

Jean stepped forward, handing Hank the device she had collected from the lab. "This might help shed some light," she said softly. "And, uh, we’ve brought something else too." Her tone was less confident now, and her eyes flicked toward the creature.

Hank followed her gaze, his brows furrowing deeply. "What... is that?"

Logan grunted as he stepped closer. “A dog, It’s alive, and it’s staying unconscious for now. We’ll need it in containment.”

Scott descended the Blackbird’s stairs, his footsteps heavy with frustration. As he passed Logan, he purposely bumped his shoulder into Logan’s from behind. “It’s not a dog,” Scott snapped, his tone sharp. “That thing nearly killed us all.”

Logan stopped, turning his head slightly to glance at Scott, but he didn’t say a word. His silence was pointed, and his expression remained unreadable, a mix of restrained irritation and indifference.

Hank nodded slowly, clearly curious but deciding not to press further. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, motioning for help as he prepared to transfer the creature to a secure cage.

Logan sniffed the air suddenly, his nose twitching. A faint grin crept onto his face. "Anyone else hungry? I smell breakfast upstairs," he said, his voice carrying a rare lightness as he turned and walked briskly toward the exit.

Scott shook his head, his irritation barely concealed. “That super smelling sense is creepy. You can’t convinced me otherwise,” he muttered to Ororo as they followed Logan, Jean trailing behind after finishing her conversation with Hank.

Logan entered the kitchen first, his mood visibly lifting as the aroma of fresh breakfast hit him. His gaze immediately fell on you as you set glasses of orange juice on the table. “Thank god,” he said, his tone full of gratitude. “I’m famished.”

Scott, still simmering with frustration, let out a sarcastic comment. “Hm, someone’s in a good mood.”

Ororo laughed softly, and Jean placed a calming hand on Scott’s shoulder, rubbing gentle circles.

“Let it go, Summers,” Logan said dismissively, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “Nothing happened.”

You sensed the tension hanging in the air and decided to diffuse it quickly. "Please, enjoy your breakfast,” you said warmly, gesturing to the plates you had set out. “It’s the least I could do.”

Ororo gave you a grateful smile as she took a seat. “Thank you,” she said, already reaching for her fork.

You put the juice carton back in the fridge, noticing the only seat left was next to Logan. Without hesitation, you slid into the chair, feeling his gaze shift briefly toward you. The table settled into a hum of quiet conversation as everyone began eating.

As the team chattered lightly, you noticed Logan staying out of the conversation, his focus entirely on his plate. Ororo and Jean were discussing something animatedly, their laughter a soft contrast to Scott’s occasional interjections. Taking the chance, you glanced at Logan, watching as he ate quickly, his large spoon practically disappearing into his mouth with each bite.

“Everything okay?” you asked quietly, leaning slightly toward him.

Logan raised an eyebrow and glanced to your side, pausing mid-chew before swallowing. “Yeah,” he replied curtly. “We found something big.”

You tilted your head, curiosity lighting your features. “Big as in… dangerous?”

Logan shrugged, pushing his plate slightly forward as he reached for a glass of orange juice. “Could be. Too early to say.”

The vague response left a sense of unease lingering in the air, but you didn’t press further—not yet, at least. You could tell he wasn’t in the mood to elaborate. Instead, you shifted your gaze back to the table, where the others were now discussing their next moves.

Logan’s voice broke through again, softer this time. “Thanks for breakfast,” he said.

You smiled faintly, your curiosity temporarily taking a backseat. “Anytime,” you murmured, turning your attention back to your plate, though your mind couldn’t help but linger on whatever big thing they’d found.

Charles’ voice suddenly echoed in your mind, clear and commanding, “Everyone, gather in the meeting room.” The slight shift in expression from those around the table confirmed the message had been sent to all of you. Without missing a beat, the team rose from their seats, leaving their dirty plates and glasses in the kitchen as they filed out.

In the meeting room, Hank stood by the central console, his face unusually serious as he worked through the data pulled from the hard drive Jean had recovered. The faint hum of the holographic display filled the room as he turned to address the team.

“I’ve gone through most of the files from the lab,” Hank began, his tone measured but heavy.

“There’s good news and bad news. Let’s start with the good. I believe I can build a chip to unlock the collar.” His gaze flickered to you. “But it’s going to take time. Weeks, at least. The components I need are specialized and will have to be sourced from around the world.”

The room was silent except for the faint shifting of chairs. Hank pressed a button, projecting scans of your brain and blood tests from the night before onto the screen.

“Now for the bad news,” he continued, his voice softening. “The scans show your condition is deteriorating. Your blood isn’t replenishing itself properly, and the tumor is putting more pressure on your brain. I know you’ve been hiding it well, but…” Hank hesitated, his usual confidence faltering. “I can’t let you keep suffering like this. Not under my watch.”

Your stomach tightened as his words hung in the air. You knew things were bad, but hearing it laid out so plainly made it feel crushingly real.

Hank exhaled deeply before continuing. “From the files, I’ve found a potential temporary solution. It involves a bone marrow transplant—from Logan to you. His healing factor could regenerate your blood temporarily, buying us more time until I can remove the collar.”

You’re immediately against it. The thought of another injection derived from his DNA dredges up memories of your transformation into a mutant, an experience you’ve never fully reconciled.

You fear the idea of becoming too much like him, as if losing more of yourself every time his DNA alters you.

Logan’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t hesitate. With a shrug, he muttered, “I’ll do it. No problem.”

Hank looked relieved, nodding gratefully. Before he could say more, Jean chimed in. “We can prep everything tonight. Hank and I will keep digging through the drive for more information.”

“I"m sure you both can ensure her well being,” Ororo added, her calm voice cutting through the tension.

Charles nodded in approval. Then Hank turned to Scott, seeking his input. Scott crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. After a long pause, he simply said, “If it’s what she needs, then we should do it.”

The team seemed to settle into agreement, but no one had thought to ask you. Finally, you broke the silence.

“No.”

The word came out sharp and clear, cutting through the room like a knife. Every head turned toward you. Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly as he leaned forward. “What’s wrong, Varmint?”

You met his gaze, your voice unwavering. “I can’t do that.”

Logan frowned, clearly trying to figure you out. “Nothing's gonna happened to me. I’ve been through worse, and if this gives you a shot at life, it’s worth it.”

You shook your head, the words you wanted to say stuck in your throat. It wasn’t about Logan—it was about you. But how could you explain that? Your voice cracked slightly as you repeated, “I’m sorry. I just… I can’t.”

Without waiting for a response, you pushed back from the table, rising abruptly. The team watched in stunned silence as you strode out of the room. You moved quickly down the hall, your steps echoing off the walls, climbing the stairs until you reached the sanctuary of your room. The door closed with a soft click behind you, sealing you off from the questions and expectations left behind.

Back in the meeting room, the team exchanged puzzled glances. Hank and Jean shared a quiet look, unsure of how to proceed. Charles, however, seemed unsurprised. His calm gaze turned to Logan.

“She needs a little push,” Charles said gently. “You can convince her, Logan.”

Logan’s jaw tightened. The idea of being in a room with two telepaths poking at his thoughts made him uneasy, but he couldn’t deny the truth in Charles’ words. He gave a slight nod, his mind already focused on finding you and trying to understand.

With a gruff sigh, Logan stood and left the room, determined to bring you around—even if it meant pushing you harder than he’d like.

Logan climbed the stairs to the third floor, his heavy boots echoing faintly in the quiet hallway. He paused in front of your door, hovering for a moment before reaching for the handle. It clicked open easily—it wasn’t locked. Stepping inside, his sharp eyes immediately found you sitting by the windowsill, your arms wrapped tightly around your knees like you were shielding yourself from whatever he was about to say.

You glanced at the door, spotting Logan, and cursed softly under your breath. Why didn’t I lock it?

“It wasn’t about me,” Logan said simply, his voice low but steady.

Your eyes stayed fixed on the view outside, refusing to meet his.

“It’s about you,” he continued, his tone firm but not unkind, reading you like an open book. It frustrated you how easily he could cut through your defenses, even when you tried so hard to keep him out.

“I’m not gonna do it, Logan,” you said, your voice quiet but resolute.

Logan stepped further into the room, his movements careful, as if trying not to spook you. He sat across from you, close enough to catch even the smallest flicker of emotion on your face. But you kept your gaze firmly on the window, refusing to look at him.

He tilted his head slightly, watching you for a long moment before speaking again. “I need to show you something downstairs. Come on.”

You hesitated, the weight of his words sinking in. But then he stood, tilting his head toward the door in a silent invitation. Without a word, you unwound yourself from the windowsill and followed him out, your steps quiet against the wooden floors.

As you walked side by side through the hallway and down the stairs, Logan finally broke the silence. “Scott was furious because of this thing,” he confessed, his voice gruff but tinged with something softer.

You glanced at him briefly, the faintest flicker of curiosity in your eyes. “What is it?”

“A dog,” Logan said, his lips twitching into a humorless smile. “He was ready to toss it out mid-flight.”

Logan stopped in front of the reinforced cage by the lab, dragging it slightly into the light. The dog-wolf creature lay inside, still unconscious but breathing steadily. The harsh glow illuminated the jagged metal patches on its body, emphasizing its unnatural appearance. Logan's gaze fixed on the creature.

“This thing was made. Torn apart and put back together like it didn’t matter. It’s probably been through hell.”

But his words barely registered. As soon as the creature came into view, your breath hitched. Recognition struck you like a blow to the chest. You stepped closer, your eyes wide with disbelief.

“Fenris!” you exclaimed, your voice trembling as you dropped to your knees in front of the cage.

Logan froze, his sharp gaze flicking between you and the creature. “Fenris?” he repeated, his tone tinged with confusion.

Ignoring him, you unlocked the cage without hesitation, your fingers trembling slightly as you pushed the door open. You reached inside, gently placing a hand on the creature’s head. Despite the cold metal plating and the harsh scars marring its body, there was still something familiar in the way its chest rose and fell, the faint remnants of the dog you once knew.

“What have they done to you…” you whispered, more to yourself than to anyone else. Your fingers trailed over the patchy fur and metallic implants, your heart sinking as memories surged back.

Logan crouched beside you, his brows furrowed as he studied both you and the creature. “You know this thing?” he asked, his voice low and careful.

You nodded, your throat tight. “Fenris was…is…one of them. A weapon. The military used him for a short time, a biological weapon. They'd injected him with rabies to attack the enemies, back when they were developing experimental war assets. He was just a dog when they got him, but they…they turned him into this.”

Logan’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. “You were there?”

You hesitated, your hand still stroking Fenris’s head. “I wasn’t on the battlefield, but I saw him after each mission. They’d send him out and…when he came back, it was worse every time. More scars, more metal. They kept adding to him, taking away the parts that made him…him.”

Logan didn’t say anything for a moment, but his silence spoke volumes. He glanced at the unconscious creature, his gaze heavy with understanding.

“I tried to stop them once,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Tried to tell them he was suffering, that he wasn’t just a machine. But they didn’t care. They didn’t see him as anything more than a tool.”

Logan sighed, leaning back slightly. “They never do. That’s how they see us, too. Tools, experiments. Nothing more.”

You met his gaze, and for a moment, you saw the shared weight of pain and loss in his eyes. Turning back to Fenris, you gently stroked the fur where it was still soft, untainted by the metallic implants.

“I used to sneak at night,” you said softly. “I’d sit with him. Bring him treats”

You swallowed hard. “…I don’t know if there’s enough of him left to bring back.”

You stayed seated by the cage, your fingers gently tracing the cold metal bars as Fenris’s slow, steady breaths filled the room. Logan crouched beside you, his gaze flicking between you and the creature.

“Fenris would still need you.. to be around.. Please…” Logan’s voice was gruff, and there was a hesitance in it, like he couldn’t quite believe he was saying the words. “You need to do the procedure.”

Your hand stilled, and you glanced at him. His eyes held something you hadn’t expected—concern, not just for you, but for Fenris too. You shifted your gaze from the unconscious creature to Logan, your heart heavy with doubt.

“What if It changed me?” you asked quietly, the vulnerability in your voice catching even you off guard. “What if I survive, but lose everything I have left?”

Logan’s palm rested on your arm, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. The touch was grounding, steady. His voice was low but firm. “You’re already more you than anyone I’ve ever met. A shot of me ain’t gonna change that...” He muttered your name softly.

His words held an unshakable confidence, and for the first time, you found yourself believing him. His gaze never wavered, holding yours with an intensity that made it hard to look away. You felt a strange sense of comfort in it, a reassurance that had been missing for so long.

Logan’s lips twitched into a faint smirk. “C’mon, do it for Fenris.”

A soft smile broke through your uncertainty, despite yourself. “You’re not gonna stop playing that card now, are you?”

“Not a chance,” he replied, his tone lighter now but still laced with sincerity.

You glanced down at his hand, still resting on your arm, and then back at Fenris. There was a warmth in Logan’s touch, an unexpected solace that made the decision feel just a little less daunting. Finally, you exhaled deeply, the tension in your shoulders easing.

“I can’t wait to throw this right at Scott’s face,” Logan said with a quiet laugh, breaking the heavy atmosphere. “The dog I rescued that he hated for an hour straight? I was right, and he was wrong.”

You chuckled softly, your smirk growing. “Thank you, for not leaving him behind.” You said which Logan just silently respond with a small smile, flickering his eyes between your eyes and lips.

With a small shake of your head, you pulled your arm from his touch and reached to close the cage. As much as you hated breaking the connection, the moment felt less weighty now, more manageable.

“Let’s get it over with,” you said, standing and casting one last glance at Fenris. Logan followed, his hand resting briefly on your back as you both turned toward the door. “For Fenris,” you muttered under your breath, and though the words were small, they carried a growing sense of determination.

Part 8 ->

[ttrashlord]

STEB X ENFORCER!READER

Summary:just Steb being cute and stuff

Warnings:none

You two surely met like,when you two were cadets,he just graduated from School and you too but whatever lead you there,you ended Up meeting him

He is a man of little to no words as we all saw in the show so,you have to do the first step,you two surely been in the same like besides the other one,so you make a comment to him.

You:i hope (chief/name) doesn't make us clean again the training yard floor,could you believe It? Twice in a day

Steb:...i Hope not

The vastaya Who was besides you was quite tall,with hard,looking skin but soft at the same time and also Big blue eyes.You wanted to talked with him for a while now,but never find the time to do it,now,that your chief was making clear (again) the rules,etc,etc.you thouugh:this is boring,maybe he is bored too,this is a great time to Talk to him...in front of the chief...while he's talking...yay...

You were about to say something,when suddenly,your name was heard in the whole training yard

(chief/name): Y/N L/N ( last name) YOU WILL BE THE ONE CLEANING THIS YARD CORNER TO CORNER IF I HEAR YOU TALKING ONCE MORE!

everyone was quiet,except for you,but...he was laughing,quietly,or at least you heard a chuckle.

You:told ya

Steb:let's talk later and not about cleaning yards ok?

After you two met properly,you two make training together,eat together,do everything together,even if you have to do teams for training guess who's Steb joining with?,i'll give you one chance

At first,i headcanon that he was like cait,a good shooter,but if you are not or need hell with this,he will help! No doubts about it

Just imagine him,steping behind you,holding your hands in postion,telling you how to look through the sight right in your ear,and then...you failling the shoot.

You:i guess i'll need more classes

You do EVERYTHING together,even your roomates (i don't know how you call your partners in the army which you share room) ask you Why you're always with him and even if he is your boyfriend.

On the other hand,Steb has to deal with soooo much teasing in his room "is she a hook up??"," is she your girlfriend??"

For fucks sake,poor steb

After you two clarified their doubts,everyone is dissapointed,they wanted to see you two together who wouldnt is the real question

After you two graduate and get in real missions,Steb makes sure to stay as close as he can next to you,he wants to protect you and doesn't want to see something happening to you.

Even asking cait (when she is Commander) when you have a risky mission,if he can be instead of you (⁠-̩̩̩⁠-̩̩̩⁠-̩̩̩⁠-̩̩̩⁠-̩̩̩⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠-̩̩̩⁠-̩̩̩⁠-̩̩̩⁠-̩̩̩⁠-̩̩̩⁠)

You,Steb,vi,Maddie,cait and loris make the peanut team (if ykyk)

He asks you to take care,but you always say that you are risky,because you have always someone to take care of you,literally and metaphorically. (As far as i know,Steb is a field doctor so,yk)

It's all about you and him,talking care of each other,making sure you know where the other one is all the time and always have the last billete for the other one ;)

When you started dating and you two still were enforcers this wouldn't change,as far as we expect

Just him,being besides you in every mission,taking care of your injuries (if you have any) and viceversa

If you two are living in different houses,he Will definetly Will walk you to your House such a gentleman oh my gosh

You protest sometimes staying that you can take care of yourself or even that you can walk HIM home

But he denies,he just likes the walk,and being with you ;)

If you two live together,that's a different story

You two go together to you shared House/department and finally find peace (i headcanon that he is allergic to animal fur so he wouldn't have any pet)

You two are in home,maybe you reading while he cleans his uniform,meanwhile the fire warms you two,talking about your Life and how do you expect the future,YOUR future together.

He will clean (without telling you) both of your uniforms,and making everything ready to the Next day at work.

I just now that he is so husband material and he wouldn't change you or anything on his life for anything.He thinks it's perfect just the way it is 🫐

YOOOO it's kinda late (what hour it's in your country?) but now i'm so tired,but i wanted to write this (maybe i'll post it tomorrow)

See u 🫰✨ (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

[mo-ok]

What's a Red without their Blue?

Dengeki Sentai Changeman

Hiryu Tsurugi & Yuma Ozora

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Giving the nerd a chance

tags: nerd!nanami/fem!reader, college!au, stsg, nsfw, dirty talk, asphyxiation, size kink, mdni!!

a/n: this one’s a long one :) pace yourself and enjoy!

Kento Nanami is a social enigma. He is a total outlier but in the weirdest way possible.

This man is conventionally attractive. Some would even go as far to say Nanami’s handsome, almost in a filthy way. His looks are sneaky too. He’s not someone you’d immediately notice in a room, but once you did…

You would notice his sculpted jaw line first. Then, his naturally high cheekbones that gave way to his soft hazel eyes. He had a serious look on his face always, but his eyes told a different story. Maybe you’d notice his blonde hair that sat neatly on his head, styled with an undercut. Yeah, Nanami was fucking hot.

But that’s not the weird part. No, you haven’t heard him utter a single word except to answer the professor’s unanswered questions once the silence was unbearable.

That’s not exactly weird either. There are tons of people who go through college without the intention of making friends… but Nanami has friends. He doesn’t just have like one friend. No, he’s apart of a friend group.

The weirdest part was he seemed to be close with the most popular guy in your university, star quarterback Satoru Gojo. Gojo was seemingly every college girl’s wet dream. He’s the type to stand out in a room. His looks and personality demand attention.

He’s the complete opposite from Nanami.

Then, there was Suguru Geto… Geto was also a strange friend for Nanami to have. Geto was smart, funny, and well-mannered… when he was in class. But you’ve seen how Geto acts at parties. He smokes cigarettes, shotguns whiskey, and keeps up with all of Gojo’s antics. Shoko was the exact same way, except she didn’t care enough to keep up with Gojo’s buffoonery.

They were the complete opposite from Nanami as well.

Yu Haibara was a cutie patootie. He’s also a sweet social butterfly. Another one of Nanami’s friends that just didn’t seem to be his type.

You caught yourself staring at the friend group as you’re sitting on a couch at a frat house. Your college team just won the game, so Satoru had invited a whole slew of people over. You somehow made it on that list. Your friend, Utahime, is begging you to leave, but something is telling you to stay.

“Go on without me, Uta. I’ll be fine, promise.” You say over the music as you flash her a small smile to assure her.

“I really, really, really don’t want to leave you here alone, yn. I don’t want you to end up on the front page of the news.”

“Don’t wish that shit upon me.” You laugh as you gently nudge her arm, urging her towards the door.

“I’m serious, yn. Please text me. If you’re not back in the dorm by midnight, I’m calling the cops.” She says as she grabs your shoulders, forcing you to face her directly.

You admire your friend’s caring demeanor, but she was being a total cock block for you right now.

“I will text you. I promise.” You assure her once again. “Go back to the dorm. Love you.”

She sighs deeply as she lets you go. She’s still not comfortable with the idea of leaving you here, but she can’t force you to leave. “Love you too. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Oh, that’s all I’m gonna do.” You smirk as she flips you off and leaves the frat house.

You take a drink from your red solo cup to gather your nerves. Nanami has been sitting in the corner of the kitchen all night. He’s alone, but he doesn’t look lonely. Sometimes, Satoru will drunkenly slouch his weight onto the blonde and slur something inaudible to him. From what you can see, Nanami just rolls his eyes and shrugs his friend off his shoulders.

You want to approach him, but you’re still too afraid he won’t talk to you. As you sit down your cup, an intoxicated Satoru is standing over you.

“I’m sorry- I don’t remember your name.” He gives you a slanted smile as he crouches down a bit so you two are face-to-face.

“That’s okay. I don’t remember yours either.” You snip back with a small grin. Something sparkles in his eyes as you give him a little bit of a challenge. He finds it to be endearing.

“Cheeky. Give me your number.” He demands, keeping his smirk on his face.

“Why should I give it to you?”

“Because it’s not for me.” He slurs as he leans in close to you. He nods his head towards the kitchen. “I’m doing this for my pussy friend over there.”

Your eyes dart towards Nanami. His eyes are glaring holes into Satoru with more anger and emotion than you’ve ever seen from him. Your stomach swirls with butterflies.

“That is a really good reason.” You murmur as you quickly type your number into Satoru’s phone.

*** *** ***

It had been days since the frat party and not a single word from Nanami. Your excitement had honestly fizzled out into sulking. Were you not good enough for him? Did Satoru lie? Was it all a sick prank?

Not even Utahime could get you in a good mood.

“Yn. This is so ridiculous. If you like him that much, just go up and talk to him.” She chides

“Noooo.” You groan into your pillow as you turn onto your stomach in your bed. “He’s too cool. Out of my league.”

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same Kento Nanami? The nerd who barely ever talks? The know-it-all in class?”

“Utahimeee.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“Let me wallow in my self pity.” You gripe before you hear your phone buzz. The sound of your phone notifying you doesn’t even excite you anymore. It’s always some lame ass notification.

Unknown Number: Is this yn?

Your eyes widen as you stare at your phone in disbelief. Your body involuntarily sits up in bed, startling Utahime.

“Jesus Christ. What? What happened?”

“He texted me!” You beam proudly. You are embarrassing. Utahime scoffs and walks away from you, unable to take the second-hand embarrassment.

Yn: Yeah, that’s me :)

Unknown Number: This is Kento Nanami. I’m sorry Gojo felt the need to disturb you at the party. 

Yn: No need! He didn’t disturb me too much.

Nanami: That’s good to hear.

God. Now, what do you say? Of course Nanami is a dry texter. You stare at the text conversation for a while, trying to think of something.. anything to break the ice.

Yn: Did you ask him to get my number, or did he do that on his own volition?

Nanami: Gojo does things on his own volition.

Yn: Ah.. I see.

He left you on read.

Goddammit.

You had your chance, and now, you blew it. Sighing, you lock your phone and try to forget he even ever texted you in the first place.

*** *** ***

I mean, who even needs Nanami? He’s really not even that handsome or mysterious. You keep telling yourself as you get ready to go to another party Gojo invited you too.

Oh, also, Gojo kept your number for himself as well. He mostly asked to copy your notes when Nanami refused to let him copy his notes. He would also send the occasional invitation to one of his signature parties.

This one was apparently labeled as “exclusive”. You had no idea what that meant, but you weren’t allowed to bring a plus-one this time.

Luckily for you, Utahime was visiting back home for the weekend, so she couldn’t scold you for going out to another party this weekend.

Black eyeliner was smeared across your waterline, and you puckered your lips as you carefully applied some sheer gloss. You decided to be casual with your outfit, wearing a basic off-shoulder black top with some jeans.

As soon as you got to the frat house, you quickly understood what “exclusive” meant. It was only their closest friends in the house. Satoru and Haibara were on the couch, lounging. Suguru and Shoko were sitting by the window, sharing a cigarette. Nanami was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, looking as stoic as ever. Immediately, you were grateful for going with a more casual look.

“Yn! So glad you made it!” Satoru grinned in a more sober voice than the last time you spoke with him.

“Am I imposing on something?” You ask as you close the door.

“Of course not, silly. I sent you an invite for a reason.” Satoru says casually as he pats the spot between him and Haibara on the couch. “Come have a seat. Get comfortable. We’re just hanging out tonight.”

You stare at the seat between Gojo and Haibara, and you decide to sit in the open chair next to them instead.

“Afraid that we might bite?” Gojo grins as he leans over the arm of the chair towards you.

“Stop it, Satoru. You’re going to scare her away.” Shoko scolds before taking a drag off her cigarette.

Your phone gently buzzes in your pocket as Satoru and Shoko begin to bicker about his social skills. You sneakily check your phone.

Nanami: You look pretty tonight.

OH. We are so back, baby.

Yn: Thank you :) You look as handsome as ever.

Nanami: Oh yeah?

It is so small and insignificant, but that little “oh yeah?” makes your stomach flutter with excitement.

“Yn?” You snap your attention up to Shoko and realize she has been trying to talk to you.

“Shit- sorry. What’s up?”

Your phone lightly buzzes again, and you quickly glance down to check.

Nanami: You’re blushing.

“I was asking what your major is.” Shoko smiles calmly as she’s sat upon the windowsill. She flicks her cigarette outside before blowing out a cloud of smoke. You try to ignore how your heart is skipping beats right now.

“Oh, I’m just in general studies right now. I’m kind of indecisive. What about you?”

“I’m pre-med right now.” Shoko answers.

“I thought you swapped to nursing.” Haibara asks as he shifts his body to face her. The two start conversing together, giving you a chance to check your phone.

Nanami: Are you ill, or do my words just affect you that much?

Yn: I’m actually ill.

Nanami: You’re also apparently a liar, sweetheart.

How the fuck was this man so bold over text, but wouldn’t speak to hardly anyone in person?

Yn: Sweetheart? I didn’t know we were on that sort of level yet.

Nanami: Does that make you uncomfortable?

Yn: No

Nanami: Good. Then don’t complain.

The throb your cunt just did should’ve been illegal. There was no reason for you to be so turned on by that, but you were.

Yn: What would you have done had I said that it did make me uncomfortable?

Nanami: I would’ve found you a nickname you were more comfortable with.

He was being sweet, and you were over there clenching around nothing like a whore.

You had been so caught up in your phone that you didn’t realize Yu had went and gotten everyone a beer out of the fridge. You decide to risk a glance at Nanami. He looked calm and composed. You wondered if he even knew the effect he had on you truly.

“Shoko, when are you finally going to get some bitches?” Satoru asks with a laugh. Your eyes widen as you notice Suguru is on his lap now. You had really been so distracted by your phone…

“At this rate, I think Nanami will beat me.” Shoko laughed as she took a drink of her beer. You shift slightly in your seat as Shoko cuts her eyes towards you with a small grin.

Nanami: I will

Yn: Will what?

Nanami: I will beat her.

Yn: Confident or competitive?

Nanami: Both.

Yn: You didn’t strike me as the type.

Nanami: You don’t think I can do it?

Yn: I never said that.

Nanami lays his phone on his lap, and you can feel his eyes trailing up and down your body. Feeling your heart skip a beat, you decide to look up at him. Your breath hitches in your throat as you glance over him. He looks relaxed. His head is propped up in his hand, and he’s almost giving you a lazy smile.

Knowing more about Nanami, you recognize it as a cocky smile now.

The rest of the “party” goes without a hitch. You decided it was time to leave once Suguru and Satoru were obnoxiously making out, Shoko was asleep on the floor, and Haibara wouldn’t shut the fuck up about the intricacies of anime.

“I’m gonna head back to my dorm now. Thanks for inviting me.” You say quickly as you stand from your seat.

“Hey yn-!” Satoru says as he tugs from Suguru’s lips. The dark-haired male made quick work of moving down to his neck. “Thanks for coming. You should come out here more often.”

“Oh um, I’ll think about it.” You smile politely as you head out the front door. The cold night air nips at your skin. The only light was from the moon high up in the sky. The dorms were a few blocks away.

You never like walking alone at night, but you try to remember that college campuses have security patrolling at all times. Taking a deep shaky breath, you step off the porch.

The sound of the door closing again immediately startles you. You quickly flinch and look towards the frat house. Nanami was calming walking up to you.

“Let me walk you back.” His voice was calm and steady, just like his presence. He really wasn’t phased at all by your subtle flirting earlier?

“Thanks.. I was actually kinda scared.” You mumble as you two walk side by side on the pavement. Your arms hug your body, trying to hide from the snippy air.

“Why didn’t you ask one of us to walk you home then?” Nanami asks as he slips his coat off from his shoulders. He then loosely drapes it over your shoulders. You feel your heart skip a beat as you mumble a quick thanks. Your body snuggled into his coat as it swallowed your frame whole. It was the first time you realized… Nanami is a big man. He’s not just some scrawny nerd. He’s actually pretty well built.

“I didn’t want to be a bother.” You answer quietly, noticing how Nanami shoves his hands into his pockets while you two walk.

“That’s foolish. We invited you. The least we could do is make sure you make it home safely.”

“We?”

Nanami goes silent, and he looks away from your shorter self. The wind blows harshly, making the leaves crinkle and hiss on the trees.

“Yes, we.” He finally answers your question. You smile softly as you look down towards the ground. It seems like Satoru wasn’t the only one who wanted you around.

Standing in front of your dorm door, you slowly slip the coat off from around your shoulders and try to hand it back to him. “I don’t want it.” He answers calmly, making no effort to take the jacket back from you.

“It’s yours, silly.”

“And?”

“Take it.” You gestured the coat to him once more

“No, I want you to have it.” He says as he towers over you. You subconsciously take a step back to create space, and your back hits the door. He leans over you, having to angle his back to see eye-to-eye with you. You can feel his warm breath ghosting over your cheek as he cocks his head towards your ear and neck. “Text me.” He murmurs lowly before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

You were left against your door blushing madly as he casually sauntered away.

*** *** ***

You almost think you dreamt that kiss up come Monday morning. You hadn’t texted him all weekend, not even knowing what to say. You felt scared about messing things up and taking his advances the wrong way. He hadn’t reached out to you either.

You were sitting in Neurology, half-ass paying attention as the professor lectured about neuron pruning. Nanami sat a few rows over. He always appeared to he intently listening when you glance over at him. You perk up as you feel your phone buzz on your thigh.

Nanami: You’re not going to do well if you don’t pay attention.

Yn: I could say the same for you.

Nanami: Could you?

Yn: …. point taken

Nanami: You know, you could’ve at least texted me if you didn’t like the kiss.

Yn: Who said I didn’t?

Nanami: So, you disobey my request for fun?

Yn: Disobey is such a strong word. You told me to text you, and I just.. haven’t yet.

Nanami: We’ll come back to the disobedience topic. Why haven’t you texted me “yet”?

Yn: Nervous.

Nanami: You’re adorable. What’s there to be nervous about?

“Can anyone name an example of synaptic pruning?” The professor’s sudden loud voice catches you off guard. You hadn’t been paying attention at all, and you feel your heart start to race at the thought of being randomly called upon.

“Anyone?” The professor asks once again. “Yn-“ She almost says your first name before Nanami interrupts.

“Crown thinning.” He answers the question, saving you from total embarrassment.

“Very good. Thank you, Kento.” The professor praises as she turns back around to start lecturing from the powerpoint again.

Yn: You totally just saved me.

Nanami: Pay better attention.

Yn: Then stop texting me.

Nanami: No.

Nanami: Answer my question. Why were you nervous?

Yn: I just didn’t want to say the wrong things.

Nanami: You’re hopeless.

Yn: You’re starting to sound like Utahime :(

Nanami: Will you coo to me that you love me if I act like her?

You feel your heart start to race as you read his text over and over. He was way more observant than you gave him credit for. You couldn’t even think of a time where you told Uta that you loved her in front of him.

Yn: Is that what you want?

Nanami: That does sound nice. Though, I think I’d rather hear you breathlessly professing your love to me.

oh…

oh.

You sat your phone down. No way were you going to let some simple words over a screen let you get horny in class. You didn’t dare to glance in his direction as you suddenly decided to start paying attention and taking detailed notes on Neurology.

Nanami: You’re blushing again.

Damn him and his observant personality. Damn him and his filthy words that make you squeeze your thighs together to soothe the ache.

Yn: I’m well aware.

Nanami: It’s cute. Makes me want to say more things just to get a reaction out of you.

Yn: Please don’t

Nanami: Why? Scared you might like it?

Nanami: Scared you might like the thought of being beneath me, begging for more?

Jesus. There was no misinterpreting that. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as you stared down at your phone, rereading his message over and over. It painted a picture in your brain.

Yn: As if you could make me do that.

Nanami: I can, and I will. Come over tonight.

Yn: To the frat house?

Nanami: No, to my room. I’ll tell Haibara to not come back until late.

Yn: That seems rather rude.

Nanami: It’s far better than the treatment you’ll be receiving later.

Your head feels like it’s spinning as the professor dismisses class. The rest of the day drags by painfully slow as you feel every little heartbeat and flutter in your chest. Nanami talked big game for someone who seemed too shy to really speak to you. It made you feel intrigued. How could he be so confident in his ability to make you beg?

You took your time once you were back at your dorm: going through your everything-shower routine. You wanted to make sure that every inch of you was soft and smooth just in case! It’s not like he’s actually going to make you do anything.

Knocking on his door, you feel your stomach churn with anxiety. You two seemed to be doing better at keeping up a conversation, but you were still deathly afraid of that awkward silence sinking in.

The click of the lock gains your attention, and Nanami opens the door for you. “Come in.” He says flatly, moving out of the way of the door so you can squeeze past him. He’s wearing his usual button-up shirt with black slacks on. How does this man even relax?

Of course his room is completely clean. His bed was even made military style for crying out loud. What the fuck does this man know about making women beg?

“Your room is nice.” You compliment, trying not to sound too awkward.

“It’s a room.” He shrugs nonchalantly before his eyes travel your body.

“How did you tell Haibara not to come home?” You ask, and he gives you a slightly puzzled look.

“I told him the truth.” He says as he loosens his tie from around his neck.

You swallow harshly as you watch his slender fingers pull at the fabric. His jaw is perfectly sculpted along with his neck, and his adams apple bobs as he steps towards you.

“Which is?” You reluctantly ask.

“I told him not to come home unless he planned on watching me fuck a pretty girl to tears.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you stare up at him with almost a frightened gaze. His movement feels much more predatory now as if he’s been watching you for a while, sizing you up. He had observed and stood by, waiting for the prime opportunity to pounce.

“What is it? Cat got your tongue?” Nanami asks as he steps forward again. The back of your knees hits his bed, and his smile shifts to a lopsided grin.

“No. I just…” You had no idea what to even say to that! You weren’t use to a man so confidently bolstering about his skills without sounding like a total idiot. Nanami was a rarity. He could talk the talk and walk the walk.

“No. I just..” He mocks you. “You’re awfully nervous for someone I haven’t even touched yet.” His fingers gently caress over your collarbone, before he carefully nudged you back. You tipped over and found yourself sitting on his bed, looking up at him with big round eyes.

“Christ. Have you ever even done this before?” He asks as he leans over you. His hand press down on the mattress at both of your sides, effectively trapping you beneath him.

“Yes!” You exclaim with a huffy attitude that makes him chuckle. “Have you?” You ask, trying to even the score.

“No.” He responds before closing the distance between you two. His lips press against yours and move delicately. Your eyes widen before you realize what was going on, and you slowly melt into the kiss.

Lips smack together as he takes the lead on the kiss. His hands gently cup and caress their way down your body before resting upon your hips. His knee finds it’s way between your thighs, and he applies pressure to your core.

Stifling a small whine, you entangle your fingers through his blonde hair. It’s softer than you imagined it to be. His kisses are growing more and more demanding as he’s pushing you back onto the bed more and more.

He gently bites at your lip, and he applies more pressure with his knee. As soon as you let another another small whimper, he slips his tongue into your mouth.

He’s taking complete and utter advantage over your body while you’re still trying to wrap your head around the fact he said “no”. He’s claiming to have never done this before.

His thumbs dig into your hipbones before he makes you grind against his knee.

“That’s right. Use me.” He purrs lowly, encouraging for you to keep rolling your hips. Once you found a steady rhythm, rubbing yourself against his knee like a desperate slut, he releases your hips and grabs your wrists, pinning you down to the bed.

“Ken..” You gasp out lowly, and he immediately eats up your words, forcing his lips right back upon yours.

The grinding was slowly making you feel all dizzy in the head as you slowly start to mess up your rhythm. He immediately notices your messy state. His hands leave your wrists to grab back ahold of your thighs to make sure you don’t stop. If his slacks weren’t black, he was sure there would be a small damp spot on his leg from your delicious juices.

“Hah~” You gasp as you lean your head back.

“Does that feel good?” He questions lowly before carefully nipping at your neck.

“Yes… Yes, Kento.. more..”

“Oh, what was that, darling? I didn’t hear you.” He taunts as he bites his way down your neck.

“M-more!” You whimper out as you grow impatient.

“So greedy…” He murmurs before his sucks a small hickey on your neck all while he’s still making you grind your pitiful pussy against his thigh. “Beg.”

You feel that defiant nature wanting to kick in. You were needy for him, but you weren’t to the point of begging yet.

“Did you hear me? I said beg.” He demands as he forces you down on his leg harder. Your legs tremble around him as he’s making you rock hack and forth.

“Please-“ You finally choke out against your defiant nature. “I-I.. want more, please… I need you to.. to ruin me.”

“Ruin you, hm?” He asks as his hand carefully trails upwards to your neck. He applies just a bit of pressure. “A pretty girl like you asking for me to ruin her… How could I say no?”

He removes his leg from between your leg, and he quickly replaces it with his hand. His fingers rub firm circles around your clit through the cloth of your leggings. You immediately shudder from the new stimulation. You hold his gaze as he lightly chokes you.

“I think I want to see you come on my fingers first.” He says as he’s quick to shove your leggings and panties down. You gasp quietly as you look down at him. He shuffles himself down between your legs, and he has a determined look on his face. He was set on making you come with his hand.

You push your thighs together with a small whine as he gives your glistening cunt an amorous gaze. Nanami places his hands on both of your knees as he forces your legs back apart. “Now, you know why you came here. What are you running from?”

“I- … You’re looking at me like…” the words ‘like you want to eat me’ die upon your tongue. His aura is just so.. almost intimidating. Not in a scary way, just in a he’s-not-here-to-play way.

“You’re so pretty, but gods, you’re so confusing.” He shakes his head as he carefully drags his tongue up your slippery folds. “Just sit still and let me take care of you, darling.” He mumbles before he laps at your cunt again. He purses his lips and gently sucks on your clit. It almost feels like he’s making out with your pussy.

“Oh.. f-fuck..” You gasp as you lean your head back into his mattress. Your hands fist at the blanket beneath you, ruining his perfectly made bed.

Nanami continues to lick and suck. The sounds in the room were nothing short of erotic. The wet sounds of his lips and tongue smack and almost slurp at you. His hands hold your thighs up, practically wearing them as earmuffs as he eats you like a starved man.

His fingertip gently traced over your opening before he carefully slipped a finger in. He continued to lap at your cunt as his finger pumped in and out and prodded around.

“Oh my-! .. N-Nanami.. ah~” You pant out. In his eyes, your entire body was flushed. You were so subtly grinding yourself against his tongue. In his eyes, you were a goddess in touch with her sexuality and femininity. You just needed a small nudge to get there.

He adds a second finger, and he so carefully curls them upwards to gently press right on the spot that made you see stars.

Your hands abandoned the bed, and you grabbed onto his hair. His hazel eyes flutter up at you, and his glasses were pushed up onto his head.

Your orgasm was building quicker than it ever had before. “Nanami-! fuck, I’m gonna..” You try to warn, but he’s already a step ahead of you. His fingers start pumping a big more aggressively, and he’s pointed with his tongue, focusing all his attention on your clit. His tongue swirls in tight circles around the small bundle of nerves.

Your orgasm washes over you as you clench around his fingers, spasming on his face. He continues to thrust his fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm on his face and hand. Pressing a few more small kisses to your overly sensitive cunt, he slowly pulls away. “Good girl.” He praises lowly.

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you recover from the best orgasm you’ve ever received. Your eyes flutter open weakly to see Nanami ditch his glasses. He uses the back of his hand to wipe his mouth and chin dry.

He then places the fingers he so deliciously used to fuck you into his mouth, and he sucks them clean with a satisfied groan.

“You taste so sweet.” He mumbles as he slowly unbuttons his shirt. It falls to the floor as he starts to unbuckle his belt. You can already feel your arousal building up again as you see the absolute tent in his slacks. Of course the nerd was absolutely hung.

Without another word, his pants and boxers are on the ground. His dick stood hard at attention. It was too heavy to press all the way up towards his stomach. Speaking of stomach, he was absolutely fucking built. He had well-defined solid abs and a broad chest.

You watch carefully as he fists his length a few times. You admire the way the veins bulge from his hands and arms. He wastes no more time: climbing up on top of you. He guides your legs up onto his shoulders, and he leans forward, putting you in a mating press.

His hand suddenly covers your mouth. “Spit.” He orders bluntly.

“W-what-?”

“I didn’t stutter. Spit. Unless you want me to go in dry.”

The thought of that sounded like a nightmare, so you gathered as much saliva into your mouth as you could, and you spat into his hand.

He doesn’t look phased in the slightest as he lubes himself up with your spit. He lets out a soft breath as the wet sounds of him gliding his hand up and down his cock fill the room. He then wipes his hand off on the bed, and he covers your mouth tightly with his hand. “Try not to be too loud, darling. I don’t want anyone to come and bother us.”

He was so fucking confident that he was going to make you noisy. It almost pissed you off, but Nanami was a man of his word.

He aligned himself up with your entrance, and with one deep motion, he buried himself all the way to the hilt. You let out a silent scream into his hand, and your back arches up off the bed. His eyes darken as he lets out a guttural growl.

Your cunt was just too precious to him, squeezing him so perfectly. You were absolutely sopping wet and so goddamn warm. He actually had to bite his tongue to not come prematurely. Once he tasted the hint of metal in his mouth, the urge to finish subsided.

“Shhh, shh. Be a good girl. The pain will subside soon.” He assures you quietly as his hips gently rock back and forth shallowly.

“Mmmnnf~ K-kento!” You moan into his hand. He hates having to muffle your pretty noises, but he really can’t risk getting a noise complaint right now.

“That’s right, darling.. Take it..” His hips start to roll with a bit more conviction. His thrusts are slow but powerful. Each time he buried himself deep in you, you went all dizzy in the head.

“Oh fuck, you’re so pretty like this.” He praises as his other hand holds one of your thighs up for you. Your body is almost slack from how harsh his hips are snapping into you. His leaking tip was bruising your cervix with each brutal thrust.

Nanami wishes he could take a picture right now. Your eyes are all glossed over. Your face is flushed the prettiest shade of pink, and your lips are all puffy and slightly parted. Your babbling utter nonsense as your greedy pussy takes him in with each thrust.

“F-fuck..! So big.. can feel you right here~” You moan as you point towards your lower stomach.

Nanami looks to where you’re pointing, and as if this man needed anymore courage, he begins to fuck you harder.

Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap!

“Yeah? Y’feel me in your womb, darling?” He groans. Noise complaint can be damned. He lets your mouth go and grabs your hips as he continues to pound your pretty pussy.

Tears involuntarily spring into your eyes from the sheer intensity. When Nanami said he was going to fuck you to tears, you thought it was just a figure of speech. Nah, you were lying in his bed, crying because the dick was so good.

“Look at me.” He demands as he grabs your blushed cheek and forces you to look up at him. “This pussy’s mine from now on, understand me?”

“Y-yes!” You cry out to him. Your stomach starts to coil with white hot pleasure as your orgasm builds up again.

“Tell me you love me when you cum on my cock.” He demands lowly. You’re too fucked stupid to argue.

The bed squeaks and wails in agony as he his thrusts are growing more erratic and sloppy. You could feel him getting closer and closer to his release as he gets more vocal and noisier too.

Your eyes cross as you feel your body gyrate on him. Your second orgasm crashes over you so suddenly you didn’t even have time to warn him. Your soul nearly floats away from you as you feel warm juices flood out from you. “Fuck~.. I-.. I love you, Nanami!” You whimper out. In the heat of the moment, it does feel like love.

Such pure pretty words being uttered during such a lewd time. Nanami is instantly emptying himself into you. His dick throbs as he shoots ribbon after ribbon of cum inside of you. His hands are shaking as they hold onto your hips. “Ngh.. I love you, darling. Take it.. All of it. Don’t waste a drop.” He lowly growls.

The room is quiet as both of you pant softly. After a few moments, you realize you had professed a love to him that you weren’t even sure about. Yes, Nanami was attractive physically and mentally. Sure, he was apparently a god in bed, but love???

What if he wasn’t even being serious when he told you to say that? He probably didn’t even mean it when he said it back. What if you made things weird? Is that why he’s being so silent?

Nanami leans down and presses a small kiss to your forehead. “That was intense. Are you alright, darling?” He asks affectionately.

You nod weakly, not wanting to frustrate him with your insecure thinking style.

“Are you sure? I’m not only talking about physically.” He murmurs softly as he slowly allows for your thighs to slip down to around his hips. His hand carefully strokes your cheek.

“I told you I love you..” You murmur out quietly, avoiding his gaze.

He exhales softly in amusement. “You did do that. It was very sexy. Do you regret saying it?”

“I.. I don’t know.” You confess quietly. “You said it back too…”

“I did. Seeing your body in such a vulnerable state as you were trusting me with your very essence made me feel full with love.”

You look up at him as he just said the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard.

“I don’t think I regret it.”

“I’m glad. I don’t regret it either.” He smiles and presses another small kiss to your temple.

*** *** ***

“Was that really your first time?” You giggle as the hot water coats your body. Nanami’s fingers are attentively massaging shampoo into your scalp.

“It really was.” He laughs quietly. “Why is it so hard to believe.”

“You were too good for a virgin.”

“I’m glad my darling thinks so.” He smiles and carefully leans your head back, so the water can rinse the shampoo from your hair.

“Where did you even learn that stuff from?” You ask curiously, wondering if Nanami just had a secret raging porn addiction.

“I have the horniest friend group. They don’t understand the concept of too much information.”

Ah. That makes sense.

tags: @lemonlimecrystal-blog

[gghostwriter]

One Single Thread of Gold

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times Penelope tries to solve a Spencer Reid riddle and the one time she (and the team) meet the reason behind all the changes Trope: Fluff! Just fluff and team banter! w.c: 4.0k a/n: For some reason, my earlier post on this disappeared dunno why. But this is a very self indulgent fic as reader’s background is basically based on the industry I work in. I had a lot of fun writing the team banter and I hope you enjoy it too! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💗

The first clue presented itself on a dull Wednesday night as the team, minus Hotch and Rossi, were leaving the bullpen after a full day of pushing papers. Penelope in all of her sunshine and colorful glory was buzzing about these accessories that she once spotted on a storefront window.

“I saw a pair of earrings and a matching necklace that would look so good with that top you bought the other day, JJ. You know, the blue one with those soft sleeves—they would look great with it. It’s tres boho chic.”

JJ smiled, opening her mouth to reply, but Spencer beat her to it.

“Did you know that boho chic was actually a response to political and social movements?”

“Wait, what?” Emily interjected.

He took her disbelief as a sign to continue on. “Yeah, yeah. There’s an article written about it in Vogue—softness and femininity historically appears in moments of political stress and war. Just like in the 70s with the hippie and anti-war movement that defined their style as a generation.”

They all piled into the elevator and turned to face the boy genius like he grew another head. For all they knew, this could be a clone and a very bad one at that. The Spencer Reid that they knew had absolutely no interest in the realms of fashion.

Penelope was the first to break the silence. “Vogue?”

“Kid, what gives? Just the other time, you didn’t know how many shoes a woman owns and now you’re some kind of expert?” Derek asked with both eyebrows raised.

“Did not knowing activate some kind of button that made you want to read about it?” Emily added on, feeling like she was in some kind of TV prank show.

“What?” Spencer licked his lips, nervous with all the attention on him. He felt like he was about to slip something up that he had been keeping to himself for a while now. A hidden precious gem that was you. “I—I like to read.” A believable excuse except his voice went up an octave, giving him away.

The three women shared a look.

“But you read academic textbooks and classic literature,” JJ stated.

Penelope added on. “Not fashion magazines.”

He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “I don’t discriminate when it comes to reading. If it’s interesting—” he shifted his weight one side to another, thinking that the ride down on the elevator seemed to be taking slower than usual. “—I’ll read it.”

Penelope narrowed her eyes. She was no profiler but she could smell a lie from a mile away way. That wasn’t the whole truth. Dr. Spencer Reid was hiding something.

“Okay, see you tomorrow!” he squeaked out as he ran out of the elevator once it hit the lobby.

She turned to the three profilers, stunned with the boy genius’ erratic behavior. “Huh, did anybody else get the feeling that Spencer was hiding something?”

“Maybe, but the kid does read a lot. Maybe he just ran out of books.” Morgan shrugged.

The other two profilers tilted their heads and slowly nodded in agreement. It wasn’t far off on something Spencer would do. He did once pick up a pamphlet in the airport to read as mentioned before to her by Derek, granted it was for a case but still, Penelope couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else.

So when she arrived home that very same night, she propped up her laptop and got to digging. Boy Genius was hiding something big and Little Miss Oracle of Quantico can find anything with her tech skills. She’ll get to the bottom of this mystery, once and for all.

———

Spencer was glad to be coming home to your presence. Having spied the lights still on from the outside of the apartment, he took the steps two at a time, excited to see his 2nd favorite person after his mother—you.

“Spence?” You called out, having heard the mahogany front door open. “Is that you, baby?”

“Hey, love. I missed you,” he deposited his satchel to the nearby sofa and ran to give you a hug.

You burrowed yourself into his arms. All the muscles in your body relaxing as you caught a whiff of his cedar wood perfume—the same scent you’ve gifted to him during the early stages of dating. “I missed you too. How was your day?”

“Better now with you,” his words coming out muffled as he refused to detach himself from the embrace. “Actually, I almost slipped up today.”

You extricated from his arms to give him an inquisitive look. The slight scrunch on your nose and raised brows made his heart flutter. How expressive, free, and trusting you were. It reminded him of your first encounter. How you teasingly asked him if he was a serial killer when he offered you a ride home in the pouring rain and how you easily accepted regardless.

“Yeah? Did any of them catch on?” you probed as you pulled him by his belt loops to the direction of the bedroom.

He laughed, finding your aggression cute. “No. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Maybe we should schedule dinner with them sometime,” you coyly suggested as you slowly started to unravel his tie. “I mean, we’ve been together for over a year now and I have moved into your apartment, under the guise of watering your plants while you’re away. Which is a lie, by the way—”

“I have plants!” he protested. His hands divesting you out of his sweater, bringing to view his favorite silk set in deep purple that accentuated your skin and the blush on your cheeks.

“—that I brought over, Spence,” you quipped back. “But don’t worry, I won’t spill how the intelligent FBI agent fooled naive me into moving in with him.”

There was a glint in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine. “Love, I wouldn’t exactly call you naive—” his voice going an octave lower. “—not when you’re looking at me with those tempting eyes of yours.”

Giggling, you leaned in for a kiss, one that he quickly took over. His calloused dominant hand wrapped around the back of your neck, effectively caging you in while his other cradled your cheek—a stark contrast to the other. Kissing Spencer had always felt like a religious experience that you never want to part from.

Reluctantly pulling away, you caught glimpse of his need for you. His hazel eyes now dark as ink, nostrils slightly flared, teeth sinking into his lower lip, and his dominant hand dug into the fleshy nape of your neck. It made you feel desirable, like the goddess that he would call you when he’s on his knees tasting nectar from the source.

The discussion of inviting the team out for dinner was long forgotten. No other words were spoken as you pushed him on the bed—only the cries of his and your name and moans of ‘yes’ echoed well into the night.

***

The second clue was uncovered when Spencer walked into the cold windy bullpen with new black cardigan adorning his lithe body. It was non-descriptive to the untrained eye but for fashion enthusiast Penelope Garcia, she knew what those four white lines on the sleeve meant—luxury label and priced well above their pay grade.

She narrowed her eyes. The Spencer she knew wouldn’t dare spend his salary on anything besides limited first edition books. Something was truly up and she planned to get to the bottom of it as her initial online search turned up nothing.

“Reid, that’s a really nice sweater,” she complimented, throwing in her bait.

He smiled. The thought of who gave it to him warmed his heart. “Yeah. Yeah, thanks Garcia.”

Her sparkly pink kitten heels clacking on the floor as she came closer. “Can I see it?” she innocently asked.

The request threw Spencer off the loop but thought nothing of it as he shrugged and handed it to her—still warm from body temperature.

Her squeals caught the attention of the other profilers filling into the office.

“What is it, baby girl?” Morgan deposited his bag on the table and stationed himself beside her. “It’s Reid’s new sweater. Are you seeing something I’m not seeing?”

Garcia rolled her eyes. This was why females are considered more observant that their sex counterpart. Her chocolate thunder was a profiler but how could he not notice what she was deducing?

“Huh,” Emily surmised. “Based on the fibers, it’s definitely not polyester. Possibly a 100% wool, what do you think, JJ?”

“It says here on the tag—100% virgin wool,” she read out loud. “That makes it very expensive, right Garcia?”

The colorful tech analyst smiled. Her girls could never let her down. “Right you are, girlfriends! But it’s not only that, this—” pointing at the four stripes on the sleeve. “—this is a signature Thom Browne detail. Their prices go up to at least 600 dollars—” they all turned to Reid who seemed clearly agitated. “—now why does our boy wonder have a piece that could buy at most five cute heels?”

With his vast intellect, he couldn’t think of a way to weasel out of this impromptu interrogation. He couldn’t very well say that it was a gift now could he? If he did, that would lead to another hard hitting question ‘from who?’ He raked his hand through his curly hair, taking the same path as yours did just earlier as you gave him a kiss goodbye.

When you gifted him the cardigan from your last New York business trip, he really thought nothing of its material equivalence, besides feeling grateful and loved. It was proof that you paid attention to even the littlest details about him.

“Hey Spence, I got you something,” you looked up at him with sparkling eyes. The first thing you had done when you got home was run into his arms. A simple act that healed his aching heart from missing it’s other half.

You reached into your luggage, enthusiastically pulling out the black clothing wrapped in tissue paper like some magician pulling out a rabbit from a hat. “Here you go!”

“A new sweater!” He exclaimed.

You rocked on your heels, looking bashful as you explained the reasoning behind it. “I noticed you fidgeting when you wore the cardigan JJ gifted you last Christmas, the polyester fibers used on it must have been really itchy so I got you a new one—” your eyes widened at how your explanation could be taken the wrong way. “—not that her gift wasn’t great! No, it was very cute! It’s just—I want you to be comfortable and protected during your cases in cold states. Polyester is a good insulator of heat but wool is still the best.”

He loved how unabashed you rambled about your interests. That was one of the first things he piqued his notice. How you liked to share your knowledge about the fashion industry that you work for but never coming across as stuck up or snobby, you just genuinely wanted to educate anyone who had a wrong perception of the billion dollar commerce. Admittedly, he was one of them but hearing you rave about it’s nitty-gritty details and socio-economic movements changed his mind. It also helped that a beautiful and intelligent woman, such as yourself, was educating him.

He pulled you in for a kiss, stopping all the worries that ran through your head. “I love it. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing at all, baby. I like taking care of you. Just like how you take care of me,” you reasoned. “Plus I got it on sale courtesy of the magazine connections.”

A tap on his shoulder brought him out of his reverie. It was Penelope with an eyebrow raised at the subtle smile that graced his face while he replayed the moment in his head.

“Okay,” Morgan drawled. “What’s got you smiling, Pretty boy?”

“Nothing,” he squeaked out, turning to see Hotch make his way across the office. Spencer hurriedly collected his things and started to move even before their unit chief could call their attention.

“We have a case,” Hotch announced.

The remaining BAU members all looked at each other, silently communicating about Reid’s irregular demeanor, before piling into the conference room for another grueling scene of murder.

“He’s been acting weird,” Garcia rushed out. “Definitely hiding something. What do you think, Em?”

Emily nodded. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“A girl?” JJ guessed.

“Yes, must be a special one for him to keep secret for so long,” Garcia surmised. “Do you think he’ll hate it if I go further digging around to find out who she is?”

“Further?” Emily clarified.

JJ laughed. “Probably, let’s wait for him to volunteer the information. Okay, Garcia?”

She sighed, shoulders drooping, before nodding in agreement.

***

The third clue was quite literally handed to Penelope Garcia on the jet after a case when she accompanied the team.

“Cold Alaska is so not good for my skin,” she grumbled as she rummaged her bottomless bag for her favorite hand cream. “I love going with you all on trips rather than being stuck in my own tech cave but the weather wasn’t it.”

Morgan chuckled. “Aw c’mon baby girl, don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy our time together?”

“You, my sculpted hunk, and the fireplace were the highlight,” Penelope turned to the other female profilers. “My beauties, do any of you have lotion? I think I lost mine.”

Before JJ or Emily could even utter a word, a tube made its way to her lap courtesy of her seat mate, Dr. Spencer Reid.

“Reid, since when do you carry lotion?” Emily inquired.

He shrugged. “Hand cream has it’s benefits besides from moisturizing the skin, it also provides an additional layer of protection. Depending on it’s properties, it can also repair and undo damage.”

The females all shared a look. This was another unexplainable behavior from their resident genius.

“We know that,” JJ stated. “We just thought you didn’t.”

His brows furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, besides from the fact that you’ve never shown interest about skincare before, isn’t it a stereotype for men not to know? Unless—” Emily slyly smiled and nodded at Garcia to continue.

“Unless you have a girlfriend that we don’t know about,” Garcia bounced on her seat.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Spencer’s eyes widened in alarm. He didn’t realize he was walking into a trap before it was too late. “What makes you say that?”

They laughed.

JJ started. “Besides from you suddenly being knowledgeable in fashion—“

“—or having a pricey sweater you’d never buy for yourself—” Emily added on.

“Or, or—“ Garcia reached out to touch his hand. Which made Spencer react with a high pitched call of her name. “—having a shea butter lotion with rough hands!” She waved the tube up in the air. “Plus, this is half empty. So either it’s not working which I doubt since this is a good brand or you keep this in your bag for a special someone to use!”

Derek chuckled. “Baby girl, you could be a profiler at this point.”

“Oh tell me something I don’t know,” she quipped back. “So Reid, want to tell us the truth?”

He sighed, finding no escape. “Yes, yes I have a girlfriend.”

The girls all shrieked with laughter and their own corresponding questions of who is she? How did you meet? How long has this been going on? What does she do for a living? Is she pretty? Oh I bet she is!

“Looks like that cat is out of the bag,” Rossi nonchalantly stated.

Four sets of eyes turned to look at one of the BAU founders. “Rossi, you knew about this and didn’t tell me?” Garcia gasped, a hand to her chest at the thought of betrayal.

He laughed. “I caught them on a dinner date once and our boy wonder over here—“ nodded in Reid’s direction. “—begged me not to out him yet, said he wanted to be the one to tell the team the news but that was like what, six months ago?”

“Six months ago?” Emily repeated.

“Wait, wait. Hotch, don’t tell me you also knew?” Morgan asked.

The unit chief smiled. “She was added to Reid’s emergency contact last February.”

“February? That’s almost a year ago!” JJ sputtered out.

The tech analyst turned to glare at the youngest member of the BAU. “Reid, you better start spilling all the details or so help me, I will stalk all your digital footprint when we land until I find out who she is, where she lives, and what her deepest darkest secret is.”

“What about hearing it all from her, instead?” He rubbed the back of his neck. The secrecy had gone on for so long and there was no time like the present to introduce his chosen family to his chosen partner—hopefully until the end of time. “She wants to treat you all out for dinner tonight.”

All four nodded vigorously as they watched him pull out his phone and send a quick text to which you readily replied and agreed to.

“My man,” Derek sighed. “Can’t believe you got a girlfriend without me being your wingman.”

“Answer me at least this, is she pretty and does she make you happy?” Garcia asked. No matter how nosey she may be, she only wanted the best for Spencer and if the recent lightness and smiles were all caused by his mystery girlfriend, she already approved.

“The prettiest,” Spencer gushed out. “She’s my own personal sunshine.”

The three girls melted into their seats. Their youngest was all grown up waxing prose over his lover.

“She makes you sappy too,” Derek teased.

***

[EXTRA - When the mystery was uncovered]

Spencer had never felt any more nervous that this moment as he, with the rest of the team minus Hotch and Rossi, wait for your arrival. He sat with his back to the restaurant entrance and his cardigan laying on the empty seat beside him as a reservation mark. His eyes had been going back and forth to his idle phone and to the conversation the team was having.

Morgan noted his state of distress and chuckled. “You okay there, lover boy? She’s still coming right, your mystery girlfriend?”

“Yeah, yeah. She said she was on her way 9 minutes and 24 seconds ago and based on the route and traffic, she should have been here 45 seconds earlier. Just worried that something might have happened.”

Penelope leaned in, picking on her bubblegum pink choice of drink as she did. “You know, if you just told me her name I could have tracked every movement by now and you wouldn’t be sitting here worrying.”

“What—no Garcia, I don’t want her tracked plus she didn’t want you to know everything about her even before meeting her,” his voice going up an octave in your defense.

She shrugged. “I’m just saying. I mean we don’t know a single thing about her—”

“We do know she exists and you’ve been together for almost a year now,” Emily interjected.

“Actually, it’s been more than year—one year and 124 days to be exact.”

“Buttercup, all I’m saying is we don’t even know how she looks—” Garcia gasped, having spotted a passerby on the window and what she was wearing. “Oh my gosh, that maroon coat is to die for and that textured leather bag—I wonder if I could track her down and ask where she got it.”

“Oh she’s pretty,” JJ noted.

Derek smirked. “Baby girl, tell me if you plan to ask her ‘cause I wouldn’t mind asking for her number.”

The tech analyst’s eyes further widened as she noted the attractive woman going inside the restaurant.

“You weren’t kidding about that coat, Garcia, it looks really nice,” JJ appraised.

Emily squinted her eyes, taking note of the garment in question. “It looks high quality, probably vintage and—is she going near us?”

“Oh gods, she is! Act natural, act natural!” Penelope chanted as she repeatedly slapped Derek’s arm.

The stranger stopped behind Spencer. “Hey handsome,” your melodic voice was a siren that called to his every being. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Penelope’s jaw dropped as she took in Derek’s flustered reaction.

“Me?” He pointed at himself, getting picked up in such a public setting was new even for him—the ladies man of the BAU.

You laughed. “Well, you too but I was more of talking to this lover of mine—“ you bent down, kissing your boyfriend’s cheek. “Hey, Spence.”

A series of gasps were heard all around the table.

The youngest stood up and turned to give you a soft kiss on the lips. “Hey, Y/N. I was starting to get worried.”

“I missed the train, sorry I forgot to send an update,” you explained as he helped you into your seat.

Promptly seating back down, he angled his body to yours—all attention on you as if you were the only one in the room. And in a way you were, with how molten his doe eyes stared, alternating between yours and your painted lips that begged to be kissed.

He always felt breathless when you were near. It was as if he found his very own Aphrodite to worship here on earth. Spencer was no believer of fates or destiny but he would pray and light a candle if he needed to, just to keep you his. Your intelligent mind complimenting his, your outgoing personality that draws anyone in, and your face that could launch a thousand ships.

Those eyes that could read the deepest crevices of his fiber of being. Those cheeks that begged to be caressed by his calloused hands. Those soft lips that deserved to be kissed and devoured until you, in turn, were as breathless as he was. He suddenly wished you both were anywhere else but here—specifically in the confines of the apartment where he was free to express his love, devotion, and adoration until you scream his name and beg him to stop. His hand, having found it’s way to your thigh, squeezed the flesh three times—communicating his promise to have your hair laid around you like a halo as you lay under him, bare and writhing with need.

The blonde on the other end of the table cleared her throat, cutting through the tension.

“Okay, Spence,” she smiled. “Mind introducing us to your girlfriend?”

He brought your hand to his lips, leaving a series of sweet kisses on your knuckle. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is the rest of the team. Morgan—“ he gestured to each one. “Emily, JJ, and Garcia.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you!” You exclaimed. “So sorry we’re only meeting now. We wanted to stay in our little bubble for as long as we could plus this handsome FBI agent—” you nudged Spencer’s shoulder. “—wanted to keep me to himself. But where’s Aaron and Dave?”

Emily whispered under her breath. “Aaron? Dave?”

“They had prior commitments, love. They did send their regards and Rossi wants to invite you to the next gathering at his mansion,” Spencer explained.

“Love?” Penelope squeaked out. This was really starting to feel like Twilight zone for the team members.

You nodded. “I’ll definitely plot it on my calendar. Now, I heard you had some questions for me?”

“How’d you two meet?” JJ asked.

“When was the first date?” Emily inquired.

Penelope brought out a pen and paper. “What’s you social security number?”

Derek snorted at that. “Do you have any other siblings?”

Spencer’s eyebrows raised further and further up with each question while your shoulders shook with laughter.

“She has all the time in the world to get to know each of you,” Spencer laid out. “No need to make it sound like an interrogation.” He was wishing to keep you forever, if you’d let him.

You smiled as you caressed his cheek, having caught on to the veiled meaning behind his words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[hoe4hotchner]

hi! can i request a hotch fic with shy!reader? like the reader has been in the BAU for a while and is known to be quiet and they start trying to open more to the team (specifically hotch) and the reader jokingly keeps calling hotch “oldman” or “grandpa” and like they get rlly close and the team wonders if their dating or not? thank you!! :))

Old man | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader CW: Fluff, Alcohol consumption somewhere in the middle, one kiss. WC: 1.3k

           Working at the BAU had been a whirlwind for you. You’d joined the team a little over a year ago, but even after all this time, you still found yourself feeling quiet and reserved around your colleagues. While they were all kind and welcoming, it wasn’t easy for you to open up, especially when everyone else seemed so close-knit. You were known as the team’s quiet one - efficient and hardworking, but not particularly outspoken.

           Your interactions with Hotch, however, had started to shift things. At first, you admired him from afar, his calm and composed demeanor had made you both nervous and intrigued. He was older, wiser, and had an air of authority that made you hesitate to speak up. But slowly, something began to change.

           It started with small things. Hotch would catch your eye during meetings, offering a slight nod or a barely-there smile when you shared an idea. You noticed how he’d linger after team briefings, giving you subtle encouragement in his own way, telling you that your insights were valuable. It was these small moments that made you feel more comfortable, and a little braver around him.

           Then, one day after a particularly grueling case, you found yourself standing by the coffee machine with Hotch. You were both exhausted, the silence between you comforting. You took a sip of your coffee and glanced at him, noticing how the lines around his eyes seemed a little deeper, the exhaustion written on his face.

           “You alright… old man?” you teased quietly, barely looking up from your cup as you spoke.

           For a moment, you weren’t sure how he’d take it, but when you glanced up, Hotch was smiling - an actual, soft smile that made something in your chest flutter.

           “Old man?” he repeated, with an amused arch of his brow.

           You shrugged, suppressing a grin. “You’ve been at this a lot longer than the rest of us, I mean except for Rossi,” you said, feeling a surge of bravery. “Just calling it like I see it.”

           Hotch chuckled, a sound you rarely heard from him. “I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment,” he replied, his voice warm. “Though I don’t feel that old.”

           It was a small exchange, but it opened the floodgates. After that, the teasing became a regular occurrence. You’d throw in a playful “old man” here and there, and Hotch would respond with a dry comment about your youth and energy. The team noticed, of course they did. Morgan would give you side glances, smirking whenever you slipped the nickname into conversation, while JJ and Emily exchanged looks with each other.

           The banter became a way for you to feel more at ease, not just with Hotch but with the whole team. But there was something special about the way you and Hotch interacted, a certain closeness that wasn’t there with anyone else. He’d seek you out in quieter moments, asking how you were doing, offering advice on cases or just sharing a cup of coffee during the rare downtime. You started to open up more, sharing little pieces of yourself that you’d kept hidden for so long.

           Then the team began to wonder. You could see it in the way they observed the two of you. During briefings, when Hotch would speak directly to you, his voice a little softer than usual, you’d catch Morgan’s raised eyebrows or Rossi’s grin. JJ had asked you once, out of the blue, if you were seeing anyone. When you’d said no, she’d hummed in response, her eyes darting briefly to Hotch’s office.

           But you weren’t dating. At least, not in any official capacity. Sure, there were moments that felt like something more - like when Hotch would brush your hand as you passed files to each other or the way his gaze lingered on you a little longer than necessary when you were deep in thought. But neither of you had acknowledged it, not yet.

           One evening after a case, the team had gone out for drinks. You were sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of wine, when Hotch slid into the seat beside you. You smiled at him, feeling the familiar warmth of his presence, and leaned in slightly.

           “Old man, out at a bar? Didn’t think you had it in you,” you teased, bumping your shoulder against his.

           He chuckled softly, his dark eyes gleaming in the dim light. “I’m full of surprises,” he said, his voice was low.

           You sipped your wine, feeling bolder than usual, perhaps from the alcohol, or maybe just because it was Hotch. “Guess I’ll have to stick around long enough to see them,” you replied, your tone playful but with a hint of something more.

           Hotch turned his head slightly, his gaze catching yours. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, something that made your heart skip a beat. He leaned in just a fraction, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’d like that.”

           Your breath hitched, your pulse quickening as you stared at him. There it was again - that tension, the unspoken connection between the two of you that was growing stronger by the day. You smiled softly, the warmth in your chest spreading.

           The team noticed. Over the next few weeks, the teasing from Morgan and Emily grew more frequent. “So… you and Hotch, huh?” Morgan had asked one afternoon when you were both working late.

           You’d blushed furiously, stammering something about it just being a joke, that you and Hotch were just colleagues, but Morgan didn’t seem convinced. “Sure, whatever you say, kid,” he’d said with a wink, leaving you flustered.

           But the truth was, even you weren’t sure anymore. You and Hotch had grown close - closer than you’d ever imagined when you first joined the BAU. He made you feel seen, appreciated, and more comfortable in your own skin. And as much as you teased him about the age gap, there was something about Hotch that made you feel safe, cherished.

           One evening, after the rest of the team had gone home, you found yourself in Hotch’s office, helping him sort through case files. The room was quiet, the only sound was the rustling of papers and the occasional hum of the air conditioning. You’d just handed him a report when his fingers brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm.

           You looked up, your eyes meeting his, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you felt charged, heavy with something unspoken. Hotch's gaze softened, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “We’re not… you know, dating, are we?”

           The question hung in the air momentarily, and you immediately regretted asking it. But then Hotch smiled a soft, almost tender smile that made your heart race.

           “Not yet,” he replied, his voice low and steady. “But I wouldn’t mind if we were.”

           Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared at him, wide-eyed. He stepped closer, his fingers grazing your hand, and you felt the familiar warmth of his touch.

           “Well… what are you waiting for, old man?” you teased, your voice shaking slightly with nervousness and excitement.

           Hotch chuckled, leaning in just a little closer. “I guess I’ll just have to stop being so old-fashioned.”

           And with that, he closed the gap between you, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. It was gentle, sweet, and everything you hadn’t realized you’d been waiting for. When he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, you smiled, your heart pounding in your chest.

           “So… we’re dating now?” you asked softly, your fingers curling around his.

           He nodded, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “Looks like it.”

           And from that moment on, the team didn’t have to wonder anymore.

[pleaselmhau]

Just imagine the sweet little medic on base, the one always giving those beaming smiles and soft touches is the one who wormed their way into Ghost’s heart. It started with him sitting on the shabby cot, having half the mind to just stitch himself up after waiting so long. He didn’t even want to be here in the first place but infection meant he’d be out of commission and that’s not happening. Eventually the sweetest thing comes sauntering on in and instantly he’s glaring. Of course the universe is taunting him. Why else would it put them in here with him? Their cheesy jokes make him roll his eyes, wanting them to just shut up and finally finishing stitching. He’s surprised though when they do finish rather quickly. The stitches are neat too even though they were yapping the whole time. So now he’s torn between being his grumpy self and his begrudging respect for their skills.

So he starts coming to them whenever he’s busted up, he’s a man of habit after all. Not having to risk whatever medic is assigned to him being more annoying or worse bad at their job is one worry he can tick off. Their cheesy jokes start to work on him, complimenting his dry humor truthfully quite well until he has to catch him self grinning a little and pop back on his scowl. Then their sweet smiles start disarming him until one day he’s just look down at their goofy smile and bright eyes and just thinks fuck.

He starts chatting a little more when he comes and starts seeing them more for smaller injuries. Now all of the sudden he’s stopping by the medbay for bruises and shallow cuts too. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, or what he wants, but man does his feet always seem to bring him right back here in front of them. They must notice too as they start tagging along when he’s around base and free, going to the mess hall with him, on his morning walks, even sometimes joining him for training. Until one night they have a few drinks and an hour later they’re under him moaning so sweetly while he’s rutting into them like there’s no tomorrow. Unfortunately for his defenses, there was. He expected the hookup to ruin whatever was blooming between them but nope, they come right back to his quarters a few nights later for seconds, then thirds, then… you get the picture.

Then he’s giving them a spare key to his quarters, not telling them he had to fake losing his own to get the second copy. At that point they should just sleep there every night right? So they do. It becomes his new routine, squeezing his worries and stress away into their soft, pliant body. Becomes an absolute softie at night when he’s sleepy. Grumbling something about not being comfy before plopping down right on them, practically suffocating them with his big meaty self.

Then his team is finding out because they come back late from a mission, two days late, and the medic is barreling right for him, wrapping him up in an embrace. He watches Soap, Gaz, and Price’s brows raise in question but he doesn’t even really have the answers to himself. He just pats them on the back and plants a chaste kiss right on their forehead, telling them to go back to his quarters and that he’ll be up in a bit. Soap and Gaz tease him, earning sharp glares. Price grumbles something about interpersonal work relationships, but Ghost knows the captain wouldn’t snitch. Ghost doesn’t open up to anyone, Price won’t jeopardize his exception. Beneath it all they’re just happy Ghost is becoming a little less tense, still grumpy, but not as constantly on edge as he used to be.

[rookinthecrownest]

I think the thing that Gets Me about Veilguard is just how much of an impossible task it had heaped on it from EA from the start of its inception.

It’s arguably supposed to be a soft reboot for the series while ALSO being a follow up to Inquisition. These are two fundamentally incompatible goals in my opinion. This game had to walk the most insane line of any video game in recent memory. I guess EA wanted to have their cake and eat it too.

And the more I think about it the sadder I become for the original team who worked on Joplin. From what I’ve seen of the art book, Joplin was going to be about as firm a sequel to DAI as you could get - with references to rescuing whoever was left in the Fade, having Calpernia and Imshael as companions, having to fight Solas’ agents, etc.

Then EA makes them scrap it for live service. Fine. But wait - now we’re scrapping it again. Back to single person RPG but you also kind of need to distance yourself from the previous games as much as possible while still somehow being a follow up to the previous game.

New setting, few returning companions, and new Big Bads in the form of Elgarnan and Ghilanain to get a clean slate. Any mention of what’s happening in the South (where we spent 3 whole games!) needs to be relegated to letters and codex. ** I dont have the art book yet, so I dont know if these two were supposed to appear in Joplin beside Solas - or if Solas was supposed to be the sole antagonist in that iteration of the game.

But.. I hope you see what I mean when I say this game had a monumentally, borderline impossible task ahead of it. And when I think of it that way, I think it did as good a job as it possibly could. Especially since the actual development time was closer to 3ish yrs to get what we know of as datv today even though it’s been 10 whole years since DAI.

I hope it’s successful enough to get DA5, but who know’s what’ll happen.

I wish everyone except the EA execs who meddled with this game’s development and are seemingly trying to kill dragon age a pleasant day. I have a cynical detective I need to romance 😔

[xneens]

leaked nudes

pt. 2

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: while looking at crime scene pictures on your phone, aaron swipes too far left and discovers some … sexy photos.

word count: 1.4k (short one)

warnings: nudes, masturbation, aaron jizzing in his pants like a teen, pervy aaron

This particular case had the whole team restless. Other than one lead that turned out to be useless as the suspect had an airtight alibi, there was nothing else that pointed where the unsub was. Thankfully, it seemed like his time in between kills was increasing, though that did very little to ease the team.

The precinct was almost empty, save for the few officers working the night shift and the team spread out around the conference room. Rossi was nursing a coffee, wishing it was whiskey. Emily sprawled out on the floor, the case file resting on her stomach. JJ sat sleeping in her chair, a blanket laid over her. Spencer was going over the details of the case while Derek stared at his file, unmoving.

You were positive he had fallen asleep with his eyes open.

Aaron sat next to you, a cup of coffee in his hand while he reviewed the case. You had given up trying to focus, taking a break as you played Tetris on your phone. Every few minutes, Aaron would glance at you before smiling and focusing back on his file.

After losing another game, you placed your phone on the table, leaning back in exhaustion. Looking around you, you were certain everyone except Rossi, Spencer, and Aaron were clocked out for the night. Derek was about ten minutes away from smacking his head on the table when his head slips from his hands.

Aaron flips through his file, brows furrowing. He looks around the messy table, searching for something in particular as you watched him with curiosity. “Where are the crime scene pictures from this morning’s victim?”

“Sheriff said their printer broke so they couldn’t print them out. I took a few pictures on my phone if you want to see them.” You motioned to your phone, yawning. Looking over at JJ, you resisted the urge to snatch the blanket from her.

He picks up your phone, swiping. “What’s your password?”

“Twelve thirty-four.”

Aaron paused, his lips twitching as he turned to look at you. “One, two, three, four?”

“It’s not like I have anything to hide,” you grumbled, ignoring his soft chuckle.

He put in the passcode, bringing him to the unclosed game of Tetris you were previously playing. Aaron couldn’t help but be amused at the high score before closing out and opening your photos. In your recents were the crime scene pictures he was looking for.

Aaron had swiped through the photos, trying to find a deviation from the killer’s MO but it looked the same as his previous victims. Maybe you had taken too many pictures of the body because he kept swiping left, looking at all the angles you had taken. The crime scene pictures had to end eventually but he was too sleep deprived to realize he’d eventually come across one of your other photos.

So he wasn’t prepared when he swiped to the left and instead of being met with another photo of the victim, it was one of you in skimpy clothing. Thankfully, he hadn’t been drinking his coffee as he saw it since he still managed to choke on his own saliva. Aaron’s eyes widened at the risque picture, sitting up, suddenly alert.

During him looking at the crime scene pictures, you had gotten up and walked to the vending machines. From where he sat, he could see you kick the machine in hopes of free food. The only one to witness his change of behavior was Rossi as Spencer was too engrossed in his reading, who had raised an eyebrow at his reaction.

In the photo, you were in a lacy black bra with a matching thong, bent over your bed. You had taken the picture facing the mirror, your back arched and ass up–on your knees and your clothing barely covering your essentials. Aaron swore he could see your nipples through the laced bra.

Curious, and driven by his hardening cock, Aaron swiped more. His breath hitched at the site of you topless, with just a pair of boxers on. A pair of his boxers. He remembered you shamelessly asking him for some shorts out of his go bag as you had forgotten to repack your sleep clothes and he had given you his boxers, blushing all the while.

As he stared at your breasts, he grew hard. He knew he should stop and close out, respecting your privacy and all, but he couldn’t. He physically couldn’t bring himself to look away let alone put the phone down.

He swiped again, this time you covered your bare breasts with one hand. You lay on your bed, naked yet what Aaron desperately wanted to see was covered by a discarded shirt that laid between your legs. The sun hit your body right, sunbeams illuminating your hair and despite the sensual position, he couldn’t help but think of how beautiful you are.

Looking up, he saw you were still bullying the vending machine and he couldn’t help but sigh in relief. He didn’t want you to see him being … perverted was the only word that came to him that described the situation perfectly.

Aaron couldn’t meet Rossi’s eyes as he took a sip of his coffee, careful to swallow it right. He pushed the chair into the table, concealing his rock-hard cock. His polyester suit pants rubbed against his cock, and he hissed quietly at the friction, wanting to head to the bathroom with your phone in hand to fix his situation.

He remained seated, pulling up your phone again in the hopes that he looked like he was going through the crime scene pictures, the reason you granted him permission to look through your phone.

He’s thinking about stopping, his finger shaking, urging him to swipe one more time while a small part of him screams to stop. Aaron swipes anyways.

His exhale is ragged as he sees your pussy for the first time. The video plays on mute and he almost combusts right then and there as you slowly finger yourself. You’re in a hotel room, your shirt bunched around your tits, a hand playing with a nipple. Aaron watches your index finger enter your dripping cunt, the wetness visible on camera. He has to bite his fist as you slowly slid it in and out, biting your lip at the feeling.

As you take your finger out, he watches your hand pinched your nipples, eyes narrowing at the shirt you had on. As you inserted a second finger into your sopping pussy, Aaron realized it was his shirt. A small, barely audible groan escaped his lips at the revelation. Video you had arched your back, mouth opening as you fucked yourself with two fingers. He could barely keep it together at the thought of you wearing his shirt as you fingered yourself.

He can’t take his eyes off your show, unknowingly palming himself with his free hand. Aaron watches in awe as you pump your fingers faster, unable to decide whether to watch the ecstasy on your face or your pussy swallowing your fingers in greed. The video is a minute from ending and he’s mesmerized at the screen.

So mesmerized he hadn’t noticed you come back into the room with a bunch of snacks in your arms. He jumped slightly as you dropped the snacks onto the table, quickly closing out your photos and placing your phone on the table.

You smiled at him, noticing the redness in his cheeks and ears. “I come back from battle with a feast.”

He nods, subtly fixing his pants under the table. Aaron doesn’t dare speak a word, knowing well enough that his mouth was dry.

Picking up a bag of goldfish, you threw it at Spencer’s face, breaking him out of his own world before getting a bag of Chex Mix and handing it out to your boss. “Here, Hotch.”

Your hand touches his as you give him the snack. From the video, a small touch and you saying his name, he cums in his pants. His hands wrap tightly around the bag, Chex Mix flying to the floor as the bag pops. His climax hits him hard, spurts of his cum wetting his pants and euphoria washing through him in powerful waves.

When he comes down from his high, he sees the whole team wake up, staring at the snack littering the floor and table. You glanced at him, confused, grimacing at the mess.

Aaron cleared his throat, slowly putting the bag on the table. “I don’t like Chex Mix.”

[weird-is-life]

Hello i have a request for spencer reid x reader. If you have noticed in the show, esp early seasons he doesnt really get jokes a lot and takes stuff literally. Can you write a reader who is the same way, and the team is partaking in a funny joke and they are the only two who dont get it??? They r so perfect for each other

Hiii, lovely🥰ty for the cute request, hope this is okay. Warnings: fluff, clueless Spencer and reader, mentions of drinking and tea, (0.5k)

The latest case is finally over, and the whole team is more than happy about it. There are drink being passed around the jet in between, well almost everyone, except from you and Spencer.

You two are comfortably sitting next to each other on the jet's couch with the cups of tea in your hands. You didn't feel like drinking, and neither did Spencer, so instead he made you both some tea.

You are still very much present in the merry conversation happening between the team though, just without the alcohol.

And suddenly everybody is laughing, something to do with Derek and a bar, but you don't get it. You force a fake laugh out because you don't want to ruin the fun.

You find that Spencer is laughing as well, so even he must get the joke. It's only you that doesn't understand. You think of how embarrassing that is for you. Never getting the jokes.

The laughter dies down, and the conversation continues going as smoothly as it has been before.

Abruptly, you get an idea. Maybe Spencer could explain the joke to you?

It takes you a few minutes to find the courage to lean closer to Spencer, and ask about the joke.

"Spencer? C-Could I ask you something?" You whisper as inconspicuously as you can. Not wanting to get anybody else's attention.

Spencer looks at you with a soft smile, and he says, "sure."

You clear your throat, feeling a bit sheepish about it," did you....could you explain the joke to me?"

Spencer frowns in confusion, " what do you mean?"

You sigh in defeat," I mean the joke that everybody was laughing at. I didn't get it." Your cheeks go a bit red at your confession.

"You didn't get it?" Spencer asks curiously. Not mean or cruel about it, just curious.

You shake your head. Too embarrassed to say it out loud.

"I didn't either," Spencer grins at you. Eyes shining with sparks of amusement.

"You didn't?" You baffle. You saw him laughing.

"Nope. I often don't. I usually just pretend that I know what they are talking about, and laugh at it," Spencer shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. The sides of your mouth go up.

"Did you pretend now too?" You question with a quiet giggle. You can't believe that he's done the same thing as you.

"Yeah. Did you pretend too? I saw you laughing," he raises his eyebrows. His own smile appearing on his pretty face.

"Yeah, didn't want to be the only one not laughing," you admit.

"Good," he laughs, bumping his shoulder to yours, "now we can pretend to understand together."

You can't contain the laugh as he says it. The both of you chuckling on your own inside joke.

"Oi," Derek draws your attention, your laughing gone, but the smiles remaining on your faces, " what are you two lovebirds laughing at?"

Your cheeks go impossibly more rosy, "nothing." It's an easy lie, you don't feel like telling them the truth.

And one look at Spencer you know he doesn't either, his own cheeks a bit more pink than they were before.

[futfemfantasies]

safe and sound \\ alexia putellas x bronze!reader

This is for @patriwoso who requested this many months ago! I hope I did it justice :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N Bronze.

Lucy’s little sister.

Alexia thought she had zero to no chance of you saying yes to a first date due to your older sister. When you said yes, her whole demeanour changed. Everyone can see how much Alexia loves you, except your sister. Keira had expressed Lucy’s concerns with you and you shake them off as you don’t care what Lucy says. Yes you love Lucy and she’s your best friend but her older sister concerning phase is getting old and you’re annoyed. 

A tight arm pulls you out of your slumber and a kiss on your shoulder blade makes you turn around with a soft smile. Alexia pushes a stray piece of hair from your face before kissing your lips softly.

“Good morning my angel”

“Good morning Ale”

“We have a little time before the match. So you and me, breakfast date?”

“Sounds divine”

You kiss Alexia as she rolls you on top of her, straddling her waist. Alexia showers you in compliments before taking you to the actual shower to get cleaned up before your date. You get dressed in a cute, summer outfit and Alexia does a double take when she walks back in the room after feeding Nala and is speechless.

“Freeze bebita, don’t move. Dios mio where is it?” Alexia rummages through the drawer for the polaroid camera, only to find it has no polaroids inside. Scrambling for her phone, Alexia takes many photos and stares at you lovingly. 

“Are you ready to go?” You nod and your hands intertwines as you go downstairs to leave. Getting to Alexia’s car, she opens the door for you and gives you a peck as you get in. On the way to the café, you get a text from Keira that Lucy’s in a grouchy mood she she will probably be a little over protective today. You sigh and slouch in you seat, thinking how annoying Lucy is going to be today. Alexia stops at a red light and looks over at you, putting a hand on your bare thigh.

“Forget Lucy, forget everything. For the next few hours it’s us time. No phones or anything. Just us” You nod and hold Alexia’s hand in yours.

“How do you always know what I want?”

“I just know you so well mi amor”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A delicious breakfast leads to a scroll through the Sunday markets and Alexia buying whatever you want. Towards the end, Alexia went to pay for somethings a few stores down so you decided to buy her a bunch of sunflowers. She comes back and you give her the flowers, making Alexia confused but happy at the same time.

“For always taking care of me and for treating me like the most delicate thing in the world. Te amo mi amor”

Alexia kisses you and you both head back to the car to get ready for the game later on.

Alexia pulls up to the stadium and you wave to the fans waiting to get a glimpse of their favourite players. You both get out and Alexia grabs your bag before you could even close the door. A look is shared between you both and Alexia shakes her head with a smug smirk that paints her face. Grabbing your hand, she pulls you gently into the stadium to prepare for the game. Little did you know, Lucy watched the interaction with a hard, ‘don’t fuck with me’ look on her face and headphones on. 

As everyone is about to go, Alexia gives your a quick kiss and wishes you good luck as you’re in the starting XI. A hand on your lower back guides you out and you know it’s Alexia immediately. Lucy didn’t like that at all. She moved Alexia’s hand up before walking past you both.

Barca win the game 5-0 unsurprisingly as the team is one of the lower teams in the league. You scoring a hattrick and Alexia assisting the other two goals. Turning slightly to your left, Keira and Lucy seem to be talking about something that’s getting a little heated. You keep watching them and two strong arms wrap around you and soft kisses on your cheek. 

“You played good princesa”

“Thanks Ale”

Looking back at Keira and Lucy, Keira gets fed up and walks away. You sigh and start to walk into the locker room with Alexia following you like a lost puppy. You both quickly shower and leave to get home to have leftovers and cuddle on the couch. Tying the last knot in your shoe lace, a presence next to you grabs your bag. Alexia holds out her hand and you take it silently. A scoff is heard from behind you as you both are about to walk out and you turn to see Lucy rolling her eyes. About to comment on Lucy’s actions, Keira signals not to engage but you ignore her, it’s enough. 

“What’s your problem?”

“Nothing, leave me alone”

“Well it sure is something. Don’t think I haven’t seen all the times you tell Keira or someone about how Ale treats me after she does something. I knew it was you who told Mum about the incident and how you pulled Ale’s arm off me earlier. So Luce, what’s your problem?” You finish with a loud and angry tone in your voice, one that is usually soft and almost quiet. 

“Not here” Lucy mumbles as her behaviour is finally being called out. 

“Why not? You behave like this in front of everyone”

Alexia pulls on your arm and whispers for you to stop. Shaking your head and you turn back to Lucy, determined to find the reason why. 

“Just drop it okay, for crying out loud!” Lucy swings her bag over her shoulder and storms out. 

Keira mumbles to come over later and talk to Lucy as she’s going to Aitana’s. Silently agreeing, Keira hugs you and goes after her girlfriend. Tears begin to well up in your eyes as you face Alexia. She pulls you into a tight, secure hug and whispers that everything will be okay. Saying goodbye to your teammates and hopping into Alexia’s Cupra was your favourite part of the day (when you usually love training).

Alexia decided that after what happened in the locker room, takeaway is the best option for dinner. Ordering the few different things from your favourite pizza ship, the doorbell rings while you’re in the shower and Alexia opens it to find Lucy holding the pizza and sides. Alexia moves out of the way, silently inviting Lucy in. The pizza is placed in the living room and Alexia quickly mentions getting something from the bedroom. Running up the stairs, Alexia goes into the bathroom gently alerting you of her presence. 

“Bebeita, pizzas her and also Lucy” The shower turns off and you wrap yourself up in the towel Alexia’s holding. 

“Did she say what she wanted?” Alexia shook her head.

“Okay, I’ll be down in a minute” Alexia decided to give you some privacy so she kisses you softly before whispering.

“Whatever happens downstairs, I’m not going anywhere” Before giving you the softest forehead kiss. 

Five minutes later, you come downstairs and Lucy stands up quickly. 

“I may or may not have come to my senses”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes before gesturing for Lucy to continue as you all sit on the couches. You lean back into Alexia and of course hold her hands.

“I did some thinking and realised my behaviour since you two began dating was not sister or best friend like. I want to apologise and say I’m sorry for all the death glares, eye rolls and scoffs” Squeezing Alexia’s hand, you silently tell her it’s going well, so far.

“I guess I’m still in over protective, older sister mode. I realise, with Keira’s help, I need to cool it. I can see that you two are so in love with each other and Alexia treats you like the most delicate thing. Bienvenido a la familia Alexia” (welcome to the family Alexia)

You look back at Alexia, realising she might not have understood the whole speech but the last part put that beautiful smile you love on her face. 

“Yeah I hope so soon” You mumble but Lucy gives you a smirk. 

“So we’re good?”

“Yeah, we’re good sis. Just stop being an overprotective little shit” 

You both hug tightly and Alexia goes to get plates.

“Pizza time?”

[midnightorchids]

Jason Todd headcanons

- he smokes a lot

- he listens to either really aggressive rap or rock music, however he does indulge in “softer” music here and there

- he’s pretty soft spoken except for when he’s angry. he has a short temper, so he gets annoyed really fast, but it takes a lot to actually make him angry

- he has all of his weapons on display in big ass frames and he’s named them all

- he’s a really good fighter - muay thai boy for sure

- speaking of which, i think if he had a day job, he’d probably coach some sort of martial arts or maybe be a gym instructor

- if he went to uni he would’ve studied english literature and would’ve have minored in a foreign language

- he has a scar on his lip (like toji from jjk) idk why tho (it’s just hot lol)

- uses humour to cope

- so so many death jokes

- he does not like coffee, he drinks tea

- definitely knows latin

- he wears jewelry, a thin silver chain and maybe a couple of rings

- he’s pretty handy… he can fix a lot of stuff. literally anything from cars to laptops to ikea furniture

- he has that white steak in his hair and he has a huge atopsy scar on his chest, he also has a faint scar on his neck

- roy calls him the walking dead

- he struggles with nightmares and they’re frequent. he needs a smoke break after

- he also has panic attacks and he doesn’t like being touched when he’s going through them, but he doesn’t like being alone. he needs to be reminded that he’s home, he’s alive, he’s okay and he’s safe

- he has blue light reading glasses but he only wears them at home when no one is there to judge him

- he likes cat videos

- he also sends cat memes in the family group chat

- OH and he definitely has a cat with a either a really dumb name or it’s named after his fav book character (cough cough mr darcy cough)

- he picks up damian from school sometimes, he complains, but in reality he really doesn’t mind. they talk about the books damian is reading in his english class

- he’s tall but he’s not 6’4 tall he’s more like 6ft or 6’1

- he’s a good cook definitely better than the other boys

- him and alfred cook together. this one time they cooked a really big batch of pasta and he took it to his old neighbourhood to feed the kids

- he’s pretty reckless and does not care about his safety at all, so he ends up pretty bruised up

- will ALWAYS try to one up dick. dick did a back flip? guess what jason did 20 back flips! dick took down two guys during patrol? yeah jason took down the whole damn team

[frogchiro]

🐙 here!

👀 me making my own plot in my head for a/b/o cod.

imagine being the only omega on the team, except no one knows. and honestly? it wasn’t that hard to hide it in the first place.

always wear scent blockers. mild pills help, but having a lotion to rub on scent glands? makes you practically scentless.

act competitive when necessary, and back down when you know your losses are going to be big.

be caring. make Simon tea in the morning and a small breakfast for those who don’t consume just caffeine in the morning. soap likes to deny his liking for sweets, but make him waffles or cinnamon rolls and he’s on his knees immediately.

smile and be sweet. have happy little conversations with gaz about his latest interests. about the latest conspiracy about the Illuminati or his favorite game he played as a kid.

but not docile. docile is earned through respect. alphas have to earn the right to see you so submissive and pliant.

give Simon small smiles and chuff and play wrestle with soap and Gaz. late nights with price and paperwork. cooking warm meals after long missions.

the only reason anyone began to suspect something wrong was when you got sick.

headcanon that any omega and alpha will begin to give off pheromones when they get sick. it’s a little call out to the pack that you’re sick and you need to be babied and taken care of.

not even the suppressants and the salve can mask the smell of sick omega. It starts with a small twinge. a faintly sour scent that makes soaps nose twitch.

they can barely smell it. but they can see something is wrong from the way you look. bags under your eyes, a slightly ghastly appearance.

the way you move is a big give away. slow and sluggish.

finally it gets to a point where everyone can smell there’s a sick omega somewhere… but where?

in which case price has to wake you up because you were late to training. he was annoyed. a little peeved that you had the audacity to kiss when he had warned you last time not to be late.

last time you were late because you overslept. so this time the captain was going to give you something to startle your day into.

A soured scent fills his nose. telling him that there’s a sick omega and…

sick mate sick mate sick mate protect protect protect

provide provide provide pro-

gosh. price can’t get the sight out of his head. of you tucked so cutely into a small nest of military grade blankets and two pillows. your body radiating heat as you’d nuzzle closer into the pillow you’re holding against your face.

his inner alpha chuffs at such a sweet and docile omega.

maybe having a sick day would be alright… especially with your pack to take care of you.

hello octopus! welcome back! and aww, the boys taking care of their poor sick omega :(( they'd be quite distressed I imagine!

They are the alphas, the providers and protectors and yet it completely slipped under their nose that not only you're sick but also a whole omega too?? Unbelievable >:(

The second they realize your secondary gender and that you're not healthy it sends them into quite a frenzy; they're suddenly overcome with bubbling hormones and instincts they most probably never felt before.

It also means much to them than you could imagine. You being a omega, a sick omega, letting yourself be all vulnerable and open with a pack of alphas? It means you feel comfortable and safe with them, enough to show them your soft and docile side :((

Be ready to be fussed over like crazy, especially by Gaz and Soap, together with you they're the youngest pack members and when they first saw you curled up in your small makeshift nest, stinking up the space with sick unhappy hormones and burning to the touch these poor babies genuinely thought you were dying :<

Luckily Price and Ghost were there to correct them before they could barrel into your nest and nudge you awake; you were sick not dead and the last thing you needed were two hot headed young alphas on you.

When you woke up you were sluggish and slow; the cold did its job and made everything fuzzy when you woke up until you started to regain your senses and noticed that you were no longer cooped up in your tiny room with a few military-issued blankets and hard pillows but in a real big bed filled with blankets, pillows, sweaters and other things that smelled of certain familiar alphas; safe and warm. Judging by the overwhelming smell of the room alone you guessed you were in Price's room, a nice musky and woody smell, undeniably masculine and alpha.

You were still alone so you decided to just go back to sleep and try to sleep of the cold. With a rumbling purr you slowly fell asleep once again, maybe sick days and being the pack's omega wasn't such a bad thing?

[barcaatthemoon]

“can i play with your hair” with grace clinton pls ❤️

soft || grace clinton x reader ||

at just 19 years old, you were a sight to be seen. you looked like a younger version of your cousin, millie bright. growing up, girls in your youth teams had feared having to go one-on-one with you. you were a formidable defender, having taken after your cousin to eventually get a call up to the national team after joining the spurs senior team.

most of the women you played against were scared of you. most of the girls on your team were still intimidated by you. the exception to that had always been grace, who had played against you whenever the two of you were younger. you were still younger than grace, which she never, ever let you forget.

"hi baby!" grace shouted as she ran towards you. she immediately scooped you up in a hug, lifting you up a bit as she did so. all of the girls were still in the lobby waiting for the bus to arrive. you had gone out at breakfast to get a couple of things before your practice.

"hi gracie," you greeted her. it was the first time that you'd seen each other all day. grace peppered your face in kisses as she held you tightly in her arms. you were grateful to be placed back down on the ground, but as some of your teammates approached, you knew that they had to have seen some of that.

"will you sit with me on the bus?" grace asked you. it was the whole reason she had come outside in the first place. most of the time, you sat with millie in the back with the older girls. today, grace wanted to sit with you. maya had already agreed to find another bus buddy for grace.

"of course i will," you told her. grace was absolutely beaming. you felt her launch herself at you again for another hug as the bus rolled up. the two of you found seats near the middle, a perk of being the first on. almost immediately, grace pulled you to rest against her with your head on her chest.

"can i play with your hair?" you hadn't done your hair up yet, and it was still slightly wet, but you let her anyway. grace's hand hovered as she waited for you to nod. grace chattered away about all sorts of things while she played with your hair. you didn't mean to, but you drifted off as she did so, only waking up when millie pulled you up onto your feet to get off the bus. "i was gonna wake you up nicer, but she was too quick."

"it's okay, i'm too big for her to be really mean anymore," you said. grace pressed a kiss to your cheek as the two of you made your way to the practice fields. grace was careful to keep all of her affection away from the cameras, knowing that you liked being seen as a tough badass by the fans. even millie helped you maintain the reputation, rarely messing with you in front of cameras.

[withahappyrefrain]

"For someone who hates me, you're not pulling away."

Feels like this was MADE for Jake!

"You gotta be fucking kidding me," you muttered, praying your sunglasses would conceal what you were really looking at.

It seemed like a higher being was out to personally spite you. Because not only were you being forced to spend the whole day with the guy you hated,

He looked fucking hot without a shirt.

Of course he did. It wouldn't be fair if he had a physical flaw, the universe had decided it so.

It was supposed to be a bonding experience, pilots versus mechanics. Why was beyond you, considering you actually liked everyone in your current squadron.

Well, except one pilot. A blonde pilot. A cocky pilot. A pilot who thought the sun rose for them personally to shine a light on their ass. A pilot who had become the bane of your existence.

"Hey Rosie!" You ignored the nickname (all because you wore a fucking red bandana) he insists on calling you, turning to your coworkers instead.

"Your not so secret admirer has arrived," your coworker Nicole giggled.

"Please don't remind me. I already have a headache from him and the game hasn't even started," your index fingers rubbed your temples in a vain effort to soothe the dull ache that came from Jake Seresin.

"Well don't look now but he's coming your way," and with that Nicole walked away, no doubt to go flirt with Bob.

"Hey Rosie, looking pretty good," he pushed his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, making it clear he was looking at you.

"You're going to get burnt with all that baby oil, Seresin," you stared at your phone, not wanting to make eye contact. Or to look at his broad chest.

"Aww, you care about me." He was close. Too close. You could see the hair on his broad chest.

"The same way one cares about a dying mosquito," you took a step away, hoping it would deter him.

Jake has the audacity to chuckle, "You're funny Rosie. Why don't we make this game a little more interesting?"

You raised your eyebrows in mocked surprise, "You're actually going to show good sportsmanship? I'm impressed Seresin, miracles really do come true!"

If your comebacks deter him, he doesn't show it, which is honestly the worst part. No matter what you say, it doesn't drive him away. No, it has the opposite effect, encouraging him to continue to try and interact with you!

Fucking Seresin.

"Nah, but God, you're real cute Rosie," he has that stupid smirk on his face, the one you hate so much. His perfectly white teeth are showing as he oozes Hollywood charm. It's the smirk that makes you briefly consider continuing to chat.

"What do you want Seresin?" You grumble, looking down at the sand. The warmth you felt washing all over your body was clearly the sun, nothing (or no one) else.

"Why don't we make a bet?"

"What are you, twelve?"

Again, he chuckled, as if he found your remarks amusing rather than insulting, "C'mon Rosie, there must be something you want."

"For you to leave me alone." If you had looked up from kicking the sand, you would have seen the assured look on his face fall, his brows knitted together in worry, the corners of his lips turning downward.

But you didn't, giving him time to remask, "Alright Rosie, if y'all win, I'll leave ya alone."

The offer made your head shot up, "And if your team wins?"

His grin widens, "You know me Rosie, I'm a simple man." Lies. "There's not too much I want, just one thing really."

"Just name it Seresin."

"A kiss."

He couldn't be serious. He was.

But your crew had prepared for this game. Nicole would certainly be able to distract Bob, was the dagger's dark horse. You felt good about your chances.

So you shook on it.

Which is how two hours later, you ended up in the parking lot, pressing Jake against his stupid Jeep Wrangler, your lips on his, hands tangled in his stupidly soft hair.

"For someone who claims they hate me, you're not pulling away," He murmurs, victory written smugly across his face.

"Shut up and kiss me Seresin."

"Anything for you Rosie."

[jwanniie]

ik hanni's so soft, but can you make a fic like I kinda wanna see her as a fuck girl 😭 liek girlie be fuckin girls left and right

And she's like a bball/foot ball player and ur like innocent and ofc a VIRGIN

Mean gp hanni please, and also take ur time 😓

Pairings: G!p Fuck girl basketball player Hanni x fem reader!

Word count: 1,4

Warnings: unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your Willy), use of aphrodisiac, manipulation, corruption kink, p in v, fuck girl hanni, virgin reader, reader gets called kitty, little bit of teasing, not proofread, and just filthy smut!!

Jwans note: I managed to make this kinda soft🫣🤷‍♀️

—————————————————————————

You hated basketball, and you hated Hanni. Or maybe you hated basketball because of hanni?

Hanni was one of the most popular basketball players in your whole school, and the most arrogant one. She had girls literally flooding her house everyday or all over her in the school cafeteria.

You’ve heard some of the nastiest rumors about her, from the same girls that she has fucked dumb and threw away the next day, it got to the point that there were no more girls to fuck in your school, she had to “re-fuck” and that was one of the things that she hated. She wanted something new and different, not something she already got to have her fun with. She got bored easily and that’s just her habit.🤷‍♀️

You hated her because of her mean attitude and the way she treated the girls after she got to have her fun with them. Well hate is a big word, dislike is more like it.

You never hanged out with type of people like Hanni. She was way out of your league and you liked your own small group of friends. You guys weren’t nerd but you weren’t popular, you guys just had your grades on the top of the list. You cared for your future and career. So after the cute kindergarten crush and date you had, you never went out nor had some kind of hook up in some available room in those frat parties like most people your age did.

You heard the unnecessary rumor in your school, about your friend group being a pack of losers and virgins. You have no idea who spread that information, but there was nothing to deny except the losers part. You honestly didn’t know what was wrong with being a virgin or not having much experience. But still you had to torment the laughing of the mean girls and the laughing of the fuck girls.

Hanni found the thing, quite alluring actually. The idea of fucking a virgin pussy and virgin mouth, didn’t fail to make blood pressure in her cock and also she’d put you in the list of the girls she has already fucked, so it’s a win win situation for her.

But the real question is…How will she get you under her spell?! You were a hard person to impress or to make a move on, so if she acted nice and kind around you, that won’t impress you.She need more smart and easy way to blind you under the sheets.

The teacher has been nagging about her needing a tutor because of the constant basketball practice and the basketball games. So she have been missing out on lots. Hanni recommended you as her tutor, you were shocked that she even acknowledged you, you were gonna deny but the wide smile the teacher gave and the loud “Good choice” she muttered made you change your mind and accept being her tutor. What is the worse that could happen?

Days come and go as fast as wind, and here you are in front of her door, the first tutoring session. Bringing your hand to knock on the wooden surface. You gave two soft knocks, and not long after, a figure stood tall in front of you. She was wearing grey sweatpants and her teams basketball shirt.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes travel down to her crotch, the visible little bump in there. She saw how you eyed her length she gave a little dirty chuckle. “Shall we go inside?”

You gulped before meeting her lust filled eyes and nodded hurriedly. The little look she had on her face, made anticipation burn right under your belly button.

You sat down on her black leather couch crossing your legs and she stood in front of you.

“Do you want coffee, tee or juice?” She asked you heading towards her kitchen, you registered what she said. “Juice is fine!” You answered politely.

You waited for her patiently, your bag on your lap, playing with all of the cool zippers and pockets before her figure came with a tray of what you think is Orange Juice and heart chocolates. You honestly don’t know about this combo of Orange juice and chocolate, but you are here as a guest so you must be grateful for what she offers you.

You took the glass of juice from the tray and took a little sip, she offered you heart chocolates with a little smirk. Your heart told you to not take it but your brain shouted otherwise and you obviously went with your brain.

“Taste these new chocolates, I bought them from a cool shop near here!”

You mumbled a low ‘thank you’ and took a bite from the heart chocolate. “It’s good!” You said with a warm smile on your face. “I know” she smiled back at you, or not a smile, it was more like a grin.

You started the tutoring session, it was going peacefully and perfectly, before you felt your panties soaked, you were so wet that you swore that there is a probably a stain on her couch. But what confused you was,why were you aroused? There was no particular reason for you to be this wet.

You felt that your clit was ten times more sensitive and you felt like a horny rabbit, even the slightest touches of her hand on your burning form was enough to make the most sinful noises come out. She saw how you were biting your lip or stuttering when her knee brushed against yours. The drug finally did it work and she loved seeing you in this vulnerable state.

You tried rubbing your soaked pussy against the couch, but soon stopped due to the noises that threatened to fall. She wrapped her hand on your thigh, dangerously close to your heat.

She started groping and rubbing the soft flesh. And you couldn’t help yourself and you let out a moan, your hand immediately found it way on top of your mouth, your eyes wide at the sound you just let out.

She gave once again one of her dirty chuckles “if you want me to touch you this badly you could just tell me kitty!” Her index and middle finger found it way over your clothed clit and started rubbing it.

“Fuck- baby you have a waterfall down here” your breath hitched, your brain too occupied with pleasure and the feeling of wanting more that you are not processing what she said. She took off your pants and started toying with your soaked pussy, playing with your folds, thrusting her knuckles in then pulling immediately out, or pinching your sensitive pearl.

And suddenly all of her touches were gone. Her sweats were getting too uncomfortable and suffocating for her, with one swift motions her clothing was discarded on the same pile as your pants.

She aligned herself with your walls before pushing in, your virgin pussy suffocating her cock in the most delicious way ever.

“Fuck kitty, your pussy is hugging me so tight.” Her eyes were shut close and yours were too. Your sobs echoed through the room walls, you were desperate for more. Her hips started rocking against yours gently, the head of her cock discovering places nobody has ever visited. She gripped on your waist like she could just collapse any moment, the grip so tight that you are sure there is now a red or purple marks there

“I’m the first and only one who is going to run this pussy” she muttered before her face leaned against yours, her lips swallowing your high pitched moans.

Her pace started being desperate, hammering her hips against yours, sweaty skin slapping sounds echoing, moans and groans the only thing your brain processing. Her lips captured yours, the kiss messy and sloppy, exchanging saliva and her tongues sucking on yours.

Your pussy was now swallowing her length even tighter, “Hanni I-I’m close” you uttered, it was more like a moan but she could understand you.

“M-me too kitty m-me too!” She groaned. Her tips continued abuse made you clench once more around her before your orgasm washed over you, leaving you exhausted. Your first ever orgasm.

You felt your insides being flooded with warm sticky liquid and you realized that she came. She snuggled onto you, her hands wrapping around your exhausted form. And your hands around her neck. You knew that you had to take a shower soon, but you want to enjoy this moment for now.